


Coffee and a Wedding

by RedKitsune



Category: Clint Barton - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Age Difference, Alexis is a employee, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Awesome Clint Barton, Coffee Shops, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Domestic Avengers, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Flirty Clint Barton, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Love Confessions, POV First Person, Penis In Vagina Sex, Rough Sex, Smut, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, Tropes, Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Sex, Weddings, airport travel, coffee shop owner Clint Barton, crush on the owner, how many tropes can I hit?, imaginary boyfriend, travel sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2020-10-06 03:28:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 38,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20500121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedKitsune/pseuds/RedKitsune
Summary: Look, it’s perfectly normal to have a crush on your boss at some point in your life. You can’t tell me you hadn’t had it happen to you, can you? And Don’t tell me you haven’t made up an imaginary boyfriend to tell your family you had while you were away at college so they would stop nagging you, right? Perfectly normal. And surly you’ve based that imaginary boyfriend off your boss/crush, yeah? It’s normal, we’ve all done it once or twice. How was I to know that my sister would show up at the Arrowpoint Coffee to hand deliver our invitations to her wedding with our names printed in pretty swirly golden lettering right into the hand of my ‘boyfriend’. “Oh, I’m so pleased to meet the man treating my little sister so well.” Yeah, I bet you are. “I loved that date you took her on to a movie in the park! So thoughtful!” Yeah, I know you did. Thanks Sarah for letting the cat out of the bag but thank god Clint can roll with the punches. Now, we’ve got to go to a wedding together and pretend to be a couple and he won’t. Stop. Flirting. With. Me. Is this all a joke to you? I KNOW you just see me as a kid who works for you!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ello! This week’s Tuesday update is the start of a very long and very late birthday gift to @winterisakiller and @alexakeyloveloki. Ever wonder how many tropes Kit can fit in one series? Better get counting. Ever wonder what Kit uses her extensive coffee knowledge for? This. 
> 
> We’re looking at weekly updates on most Tuesdays unless I fill the slot with a one shot. Please do enjoy.
> 
> This has made me nostalgic for a man I used to know. He was much older than Clint is in this series but he reminds me a lot about Clint. I think Clint would run a cafe the same way this man ran his. This man taught me everything I know about coffee and is the reason I can’t drink Starbucks and examine the machine before ordering a espresso drink. This man almost gave me his cafe when he retired. Here’s to you, Mr. Green. 
> 
> Warnings: Fucking trope-tastic. Eventual smut. Some light angst toward the end. 
> 
> Rating: M for eventual smut

I thought of myself as forgettable and that was just all right by me. Even my name was forgettable, at least in my own opinion. It was easier to focus on your schoolwork when everyone sort of just forgot about you. I was lucky to get into a prestigious University and while uprooting my life was a logistic challenge, it didn’t feel like I was leaving a whole lot behind in order to chase the opportunity provided by a full Stark Scholarship.

The money covered all of my school expenses so long as I managed to keep my grades up so in the end, I did a lot of studying. School was expensive for anyone and this school- it was expensive no matter who you were. If Tony Stark and his company want to pay for me to go, I was going to keep it that way. When I wasn’t studying- I was working. The scholarship paid a portion of my rent after school expenses but that was it.

My family didn’t approve of my choice to study biology over medicine and so there was no help from them. It was the need for social interaction from someone not studying all the time like my classmates that drove me to choose a job working in a cafe. Well, that and the oddly decent pay. What can I say? I had quickly grown tired of eating cardboard noodles and beef flavored salt packets.

From where I stood behind the counter while working, I could see the rise of Stark Tower in the distance. It made me smile, seeing it. The Tower was a marvel of technology and Eco-efficiency, having been off the electric grid for over a month now and showing no signs of failure in it’s power system. While I had no passion for engineering- Biology was where my heart was, I still was fascinated by it.

While the socialization I got working at the cafe was enough to keep me happy, my family was still prone to worrying. They were old fashioned at best, viewing a woman as incomplete without a romantic attachment and I had none. It wasn’t that I wasn’t interested in anyone, just that I was forgettable and he was both older than me and far too handsome for me to catch his eye. He probably just saw me as one of the kids he hired anyway.

It seemed harmless enough when it first started. Mom would ask me if there was anyone and I’d talk about a man who had his shit together, who treated me right. He had bright blue eyes and soft brown hair that bleached in the sun, giving it a warm golden glow. At first he was just a guy I liked but my family pushed for more.

Ask him out. Are you flirting with him? Make sure you do your hair up nice. Don’t go to class frumpy. Have you kept with your diet? Have you been flaunting your assets? They would remind me again and again that you had to hook a man if you wanted him. Such was not my way, however. I was far too timid to make the first move. And while my family thought he was a classmate though he was older than me, in truth he was my boss.

It seemed harmless enough as I modeled this man who went from crush to camera shy boyfriend after the owner of the cafe I had been working at. It’s not as if anyone would ever find out. My family would never come out to the city to check up on me and he could be busy when I came home to visit. They could break up and I would be allowed peace while heartbroken. They never had to know and there was no way he would find out. My crush would stay private and they would be off my back for a while. Plus, I could live in the fantastic fantasy of being his girlfriend for a bit.

No one had to know it wasn’t real.

While I sat by the window in the cafe, sipping at a mocha with the phone pressed to my ear, I listened to mom as she went on and on. In truth, I was only paying partial attention to the words being spoken from halfway across the country.

He was in today, as he was every Saturday. He said he worked them because he had nothing better to do and wanted to allow the kids who worked for him to take turns enjoying their weekends. It was because he worked every weekend that I made a point to offer to work them as well.

“You’ll come to the wedding, won’t you?” My mother asked.

“Mhm” I really didn’t want to go, truth be told. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see Sarah get married, it was just that I really didn’t want to go back home. Small town gossip would surely claim me as it’s victim yet again.

“You’ll bring that boy you’re seeing, won’t you? What was his name?”

“Clint Barton.” Instantly, I realized my mistake. I hadn’t been thinking. I couldn’t help it, I was too busy looking at him and just blurted out his name. That was how my family got the last name of the man I was secretly in love with.

Still, it was a big city. It’s not like my sister Sarah would hunt down the cafe I worked at by piecing together clues from what little she was able to see about where I worked from the few pictures she had access to in the next week, right?

I was tired. Somehow I thought it was a good idea to stay up all night studying and truth be told, I was pretty sure I had forgotten to eat all of the day before. I was so damn tired but it was Saturday and I wouldn’t be calling out though Clint wouldn’t have minded.

He had always made a point to tell all the students working for him that our health came first. Our grades came first. We were all trying to make something of ourselves and he respected that. He would say that we didn’t want to end up working in cafes all of our lives like him. He would say as if his cafe wasn’t successful enough to provide a decent enough life for him.

“Good Morning.” I was surprised to turn and see him jogging up behind me as I made my way toward the cafe. Normally he would have already been in the shop by four in the morning to open at five.

“Good Morning, Mr. Barton.” He rolled his eyes at me.

All of his employees called him ‘Mr. Barton’ regardless of his protests. We called him so out of respect for him and all the support he offered us. Many of his employees lacked support from their families for whatever reasons and so he took them in, called them his family. Some were turned out for their sexuality, others for how they wished to identify themselves. There was a girl who’s parents thought her too dumb to be a doctor yet she was starting medical school in the fall and Clint was eager to enrage her each step of the way.

“Clint. My name is Clint.” With a shake of his head, he tried to hide the smile on his face.

“You’re running late?”

“I can’t be late.” He protested, strong hand dramatically held to his chest. The flair for dramatics he often showed always made my heart flutter, though I’d never tell him that. “I own the place.”

“Right.” He smiled down at me as I laughed. The way he looked at me, if I indulged in just a moment of daydreaming while we walked, I could pretend we were on our way to an early morning coffee date.

The weight of his hand settled on my shoulder as we stopped in front of the cafe. He looked at me, studied me and for a moment I feared my crush was written on my face. “Alexis? You look...” Beautiful? Radiant? Like a fire pixie? A dream come true? His soulmate? A girl could hope. “Exhausted. Do you want the day off?”

That wasn’t what I wanted to hear but I wasn’t surprised at all.

“I’m fine, really.” I may just be an employee to him, too young for him to even notice I was sure but still, I didn’t want to miss out on a Saturday morning with him.

“Have you eaten?” As much as I wanted to believe it, I just knew he was asking as a boss, a big brother figure to all his employees and not because I was any more special than any other employee. I didn’t want him to see me as just another employee, a little sibling like he calls all of his employees.

Clint opened the door for me, keyed off the alarm and flipped the lights. “I’m fine. I was just going to grab something on my break.”

“What if…?” He hummed.

“What if what?” I set about taking the chairs off the tables, trying to pretend that I couldn’t feel his eyes on me.

“What if we call in a breakfast order at the diner?” He offered from where he was checking the display case’s temperature readings. “My treat.”

He was always doing things like this for his employees. While we had packaged sandwiches and snacks, he rarely let his employees eat the cafe’s food. I knew better than to try and argue out of it. Still, I didn’t want to leave him to open by himself when he had gotten in late. He wouldn’t hear any of it though and before I knew it, I was set off with a few twenties while Clint opened the cafe on his own.

Saturday mornings tended to be slow until around seven. The diner was open 24 hours and the early morning breakfast pick up orders were nothing new to them. I often wondered if Clint ever made his own food. He would have food delivered to the back door, if not for the whole staff, at least for himself.

I expected to come back to the cafe with a bag containing the two takeout containers like it was nothing. Admittedly, I was a bit excited about the prospect of maybe getting to sit down with Clint and eat. We’d likely have to take turns getting up and helping customers but it was something. Sure, still not a breakfast date but it was as close as I’d ever get.

The fall air was crisp and the leafs crunched under my feet. It was a good morning, really. The door was cool under my fingers. It opened smoothly, as it did any other time. Clint maintained every inch of the cafe almost obsessively. His employees would joke when he wasn’t around that he was single because of his love of coffee and his love of the cafe. It wasn’t anything he would argue. Clint himself had often said he was married to his shop and that he needed nothing but coffee to survive.

“Babe, you didn’t tell me your sister was going to be in town.” Clint’s voice called out as soon as I stepped through the door. “If I’d known, I would have ordered breakfast for three.”

Turning, I looked around the cafe. Surely I had stepped into some alternate reality. “Mr. Barton?” It took a moment longer for me to realize that Sarah was standing at the counter.

“Come on now, Babe- no one else is in yet.” The smile on his face was memorizing. He was giddy almost as he made his way around the counter. My heart stopped as I realized, Clint Barton called me ‘babe’ twice now. He was making a point. He knew my secrete, at least part of it.

“Sarah, I didn’t know you were coming…” It was a surprise to say the least. “Why didn’t you call? I could have taken the day off.”

“She brought us an invite to her wedding.” Clint held up the ivory colored paper, our names neatly printed in looping gold ink as if it were a prize.

“Of course she did.” I tried not to groan.

“I should let you two get to work. Seeing your boss, so sneaky! No wonder you didn’t want to tell mom more about him.” Sarah wiggled her fingers at us as I joined Clint behind the counter, setting the bag of takeout containers between us. I thought about breaking her fingers for a moment. I loved my sister but she had an amazing talent to grate on my nerves. “I look forward to seeing you at the wedding, Clint.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” With a wiggle of his fingers and a wide grin splitting his handsome face, Clint waved bye and Sarah turned and started walking out.

We stood in silence as we both watched Sarah walk away through the window. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die. This was every one of my worst nightmares come true. It is time to wake up now. Any second now. Yeah no, sadly this was reality.

“Sooo…” Clint let the word hang for a moment. “Want to explain or should I start guessing why your sister thinks we’re dating?”

“I can explain.”

“Good,” He shrugs and I try to read him. Is he mad? Offended? Disgusted? Fucked if I could tell. “Then I can eat while you tell me why I’m going as your date to your sister’s wedding.”

“I swear, I didn’t mean for you to find out.” I sat down as he set our food out. He was acting as if it was nothing. This wasn’t nothing. This was an earth shattering secrete out in the open. Act like it, won’t you?

“Should I be offended by that or not?” Clint poured himself a cup of black coffee and put a steaming mocha down in front of me. He always knew everyone’s preferred drink and while we all knew how to make our own drinks, it seemed to bring him joy to be make them for us. It was just one of the ways he was too damn perfect.

“I mean- When I made up this fake relationship I didn’t think anyone would find out.” I shrugged, not really ready to meet his eyes yet. I prayed for customers to come in to save me.

“And how were you going to handle the wedding?” It may have been easier if he was angry with me.

“I…”

“You?” He taunted, though his voice lacked any real malice.

“I was going to say you were busy. That you couldn’t make it. I figured I’d say we got into a fight after and broke up.”

“Mhm.”

“You know, since you- fake you couldn’t put me first.”

“I guess you only gave them my name then. I thought maybe I was your dream man but I would never do that to you.” It sounded almost like he was dancing around saying something. Surely I was just reading too much into it.

“No, I didn’t- I don’t think you’d do that. I just- It’s hard to keep up the lie and if they think I’m heartbroken I’ve got peace for a bit.”

“Why did you do it?”

“What?” It took a moment for me to realize what he asked.

“It’s not like you can’t get a real boyfriend.” He shrugged, shoveling the rest of his food into his face.

“I just- It got them off my back.” He was just saying that, surely. I’ve had plenty of dating woes and had yet to find a decent man that wasn’t him.

I explained my family, their old fashioned ideas and constant pressure to find a man. That was the whole point of University to them. It was a place for young women to find men with promise to become their husbands. When I tried to play it off as my lack of creativity that resulted in my imaginary boyfriend having the same name as him, he almost deflated.

There wasn’t time for me to dwell on it however. People began to filter into the shop, keeping first him busy while I finished eating and then both of us. The incident was nearly forgotten by the time I had to grab milk and cream from the back cooler to restock the bar after the lunch rush.

“What are you doing after work?” I about jumped out of my skin when Clint’s voice filled the chilled air.

“Studying. Why? Do you need me to work late, Mr Barton?”

“If I’m your boyfriend, shouldn’t you start calling me ‘Clint’?” I cringed as he laughed.

It was as if he didn’t care if anyone overhead him. Spinning on my heel, gallons of milk in each hand I tried to hush him as threateningly as possible. All it really did was cause my hair to fall in my face from the force of my spin. With no hand free I had no choice but to try to blow the hair out of my eyes. It worked about as well as you can imagine until Clint’s warm fingers brushed the hair to the side, letting me see just how close he was.

“I figured we can plan our trip for Sarah’s wedding.”

“Excuse me?” I stuttered out the words. “Our trip?”

“Yeah. To the lovely Sarah’s wedding. I did tell her I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Now that they have a face and cafe to go with the name, I can’t let you paint me as the selfish boyfriend who can’t take time off for his girl’s sister’s wedding.”

“Can you even take time off for it? Hell, can I?” I motioned toward him halfheartedly with the three gallons of milk gripped in one hand that was starting to cramp up while he portioned out the coffee grounds for the first of the drip coffee machines, seemingly uncaring that he was blocking the way out of the cooler with a task that normally was done outside the chill room.

“I’ve trained y’all well enough to take off for a bit. I just don’t because I have no life.” Finally, he moved and we both made our way to the counter. In the back, Matt was washing dishes. The sound of metal clanking together and water sloshing around drowned out our conversation. Clint shrugged, slipping the filters into place and starting the coffee machine.

“And me?” I ask, slipping the jugs into the small refrigerator under the counter. “You can’t go to the wedding without me.”

“Duh. You’ve got PTO. Consider your request approved.”

“I didn’t request it yet.”

“But you were going to.” He countered and I hated that he was right.

The grinder kicked on as I rolled my eyes while pulling out pitchers and two small mugs. With lunch rush over and Matt having done most of the clean up, all I had left to do was watch Clint as he worked. It was one of my favorite things, though I would rather die than admit it to him.

He switched off the grinder, he flipped open the catcher and let grounds fall into the espresso pod before scraping it level with the flat end of the tamper, letting the excess fall back into the grounds container. I watched while he used the tamper to compact the grounds within the pod with a twist of his wrist only to pull the tamper out and knock the side of the pod, knocking grounds off the rim and press again.

It was a science, making coffee. One that he was proud of and had spent time teaching every one of his employees. Each knew how the grind should look, how to adjust the grind, how much force the grounds needed to be packed right, how long it should take for the water to pour through the pod and how the shot should look as it’s pouring. Pouring a bad shot of Arrow coffee simply wasn’t acceptable.

Clint clicked the pod into place in the machine, an old semi automatic that regulated the water temperature and how much water was forced through the pod and nothing more. If asked, Clint would lament endlessly about the death of the manual machine and how all the coffee from the large chains always ended up burnt because they simply trusted their machines and didn’t know what espresso should look like and the grind on those fully automated machines couldn’t be adjusted even if someone knew it was off.

He flipped the switch and set the timer. While the numbers ticked down, he leaned back against the counter and set his blue eyes on me. I hated how damned good he looked, bar rag hanging from his back pocket and sleeves pushed up just over his elbows.

“Pick the dates and I’ll arrange everything.”

“What?” I wasn’t sure I heard him right.

“Pick the dates and I’ll book shit.”

“you’ll book shit?”

“Are you a goddamn parrot?” He laughed and I snapped my mouth shut before stammering some sort of response that he simply talked over. “I’m not going to make you buy my plane ticket. Or my hotel room. And it’s cheaper if we book together so, I’ll book shit.”

“I’ll pay you back for-”

“No you won’t.” The timer beeped just as the machine switched off. “Perfect.”

“What?”

“The shot- it poured perfectly.” Clint poured it into the small ceramic cup I had set out for him and grabbed the cinnamon, adding a sprinkle to the top. “You may have gotten yourself into this mess with a dumb lie but I assure you babe, I’ve done dumber shit.”

I blushed and he gave a cocky smile as he raised his cup at me in toast before downing it as the first customer of evening came into the shop with a sprinkling of more hot on their heels. It was time for that weird midday afternoon rush that happened when it was too late to be called ‘lunch’ anymore. For a solid two hours the only time either of them had to chat was with customers while taking their orders. Still the rest of my shift passed with warm smiles and easy jokes passing between us as if he hadn’t just found out he was my imaginary boyfriend a few hours ago.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Clint and I worked more together in the mornings in the coming weeks than we had before. He asked me, of course, before changing my schedule to spend more time paired with him. It made planning the trip easier, he said. We needed to get to know each other better, he said.

Every morning I’d come in right on time and he’d be setting a plate out for me on the table closest to the coffee bar. Apparently he had noticed that I wasn’t one to often eat breakfast before work. It was something I’d probably mentioned in passing one or two times but never did I think that he would pick up on it and do something like make sure I had breakfast at the start of my shift. This was our last shift before we fly out tomorrow and it was honestly fairly dead.

“You all packed?” Clint leaned against the back counter as I was cleaning off tables as the morning slowly passed us by. “We leave tomorrow morning.”

“For the most part.” I hated talking about the trip and the wedding. Every time the topic would come up, I’d be a blushing mess. I was terrified that he would realize that his place in my story was so much more than just a name for my imaginary boyfriend.

Our coworkers had no idea, but Clint would occasionally make us take pictures together for me to send my family. He was invested in the sham relationship. All in. Part of me hated it because I could just imagine how good of a boyfriend he would be for real.

“How do people make these tables so gross so fast?” I complained, breaking the heavy silence.

“Magic. And hate.” I rolled my eyes at his answer though I couldn’t help but laugh. “What color will your dress be for the wedding?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t got one yet.” God this sugar spill just became the most fascinating thing in the cafe. Luckily, it was caked on and mixed with a tried tea spill resulting in a dried, sticky mess. “Why?”

“I need to pick a suit to complement it, duh.”

“You make it sound like you have a closet of suits to pick from.” Standing up, my back popped and I couldn’t help but groan when I stretched.

“I do.”

“What?”

“Just because I dress down and own a cafe doesn’t mean I don’t dress up. I didn’t always own this place, you know.”

Moving onto the next table, I set to work scrubbing pen marks left behind by students leeching off our WIFI to do their homework. “I thought you did. What did you do before?”

“I worked there.” Clint jabbed his finger toward the looming building in the distance. “Working on network security.”

“You worked at Stark Tower?!”

“Yep. Tony is still a good friend. Bring him a coffee most mornings when I take a break.” Clint shrugged like he didn’t just admit to being friends with what could possibly be the richest man on the east coast and financier of my scholarship. “More importantly, why don’t you have a dress yet?”

“I haven’t gotten around to it. I hate dress shopping and it’s all expensive.”

“Fine, I’ll buy.” Clint shrugged as if it was nothing. “We’ll go after you’re off and the afternoon shift gets here. Unless you’ve got something else planned?”

“You want to take me dress shopping?” I was already spending far too much time worrying about surviving the wedding with him, now he wants to bring my death before we even get on the plane.

“Well, yeah. You need a dress. I need to match you. Can’t have your family think your boyfriend is a sloppy dresser, now can I?”

~~~~~<3

It was getting harder and harder to act normal around our coworkers. They wondered why I was now opening the shop with Mr. Barton nearly every morning. Now we would be leaving together. It wasn’t fair yet I loathed the fact that this would end when we got back from the wedding.

“Ready?” He asked, pulling the towel out of his back pocket and tossing it into the hamper that lived under the counter.

“Yeah, let’s get this over with.” My cheeks heated but it wasn’t so bad. I had it under control.

“You two off for an early date?” Sara asked from where she leaned on the counter. “I didn’t think Mr. Barton dated anyone- let alone employees. Not fair!” She whined and yep, my face felt like it was on fire.

“I do date, I’m not hopeless. Why do you all think all I do is work?” Clint complained, not actually denying anything. “Come on you, let’s get that dress.” Yep, this is going to take some explaining later that I really would not be looking forward to.

~~~~~<3

Clint hailed a cab and took us to some a mid level dress shop I’d never afford on my own though it wasn’t designer. I was terribly nervous about the whole event. My hair was a proper mess and I was not exactly dressed up and yet here I was, out with the man I had spent so long fantasizing about.

The shopkeepers were kind enough and directed us toward their dresses without much of a question. I expected questions. I don’t know why but I did. Instead all we got was a ‘this way’ and a point. Did she think he was my uncle? Older brother?

He wasted no time in digging through racks and pulling out options, only asking my size as an afterthought. It was so surreal that I had no opportunity to really formulate a coherent thought until he was dumping a pile of dresses into my arms with orders to try them on.

So into the changing room I went, feeling rather ridiculous as I stripped out of my clothes and shimmied into a teal tea dress. I didn’t like the color and it felt too loose in the waist. As I turned this way and that, I heard from outside the changing room “Did you get stuck?”

“No?”

“Then hop out and let me take a look.”

“You’re joking.” He had to be joking.

“I’m not. Get out here.”

And that’s how the evening was spent. My face surely couldn’t have gotten any redder as he complemented colors and fabrics as if he was some sort of designer. I spun and moved as he talked about fit, cut and flow with a tailor that showed up. A benefit of being friends with Tony Stark, or so Clint said.

Notes were taken and pins placed. I stood painfully still as I was measured. Through it all, both men assured me I would have a dress by morning that would fit like a dream. Clint was scrolling through shoe options and getting opinions from me and the tailor both while he worked.

It was a whirlwind of activity that came to an end when Clint handed over his card for payment before I could even wrap my head around what was happening or the cost of the dress. I stood gaping at him, probably doing a rather good imitation of a fish.

“Coming?” I didn’t even realize he walked toward the exit until he called out for me.

“Yeah,” I called, back while jogging to his side. “What now?”

“Now home I guess. I need to pack my suit still. How are you planning to get to the airport in the morning?”

I shrug, “Don’t know. Taxi probably.”

“I’ll pick you up.” He decided and I really had no argument that worked.

~~~~~<3

Morning came too soon. What also came too soon for my liking was a persistent knocking at my door. Groaning, I covered my face with a pillow and willed the knocker away. When that didn’t work, I pawed at my phone until the screen lit up and revealed it was just barely six in the morning.

I didn’t have to be up for another hour, longer still if I didn’t bother with hair or makeup and I honestly didn’t plan on it. Yeah, I’d be traveling with Clint and yeah, I wanted to look good around him but I was going to spend most of the day either on a plane or in airports. It wasn’t worth it.

More godforsaken knocking sounded at my door. Throwing the pillow over my face again, I made a valiant attempt at suicide by pillow. Unfortunately, I was unsuccessful in my attempts to smother myself and the knocking just wouldn’t stop.

Getting up and mumbling, “Fine, goddammit.” I make the first mistake of my first day being my boss’s girlfriend. Without a single thought, I make my way toward my door. The realization that I was wearing a pair of cheeky purple panties and a tank top didn’t come until it was too late. I yanked open the door to find Clint standing with a takeaway bag in one hand and two paper coffee cups clutched in his other hand, Arrowpoint brand- of course.

“What?” I grumble as he stands stock still, just looking at me as if he had seen a ghost. “Why are you here?”

“Coffee and breakfast. Cheaper than eating at the airport.”

“We don’t have to leave for another two and a half hours!” Throwing my hands up in the air, I turn and stomp into the apartment.

“Nice panties. Fits the brand.” Clint commented as he followed me into the apartment.

I tried to tell myself that he couldn’t not notice them. He wasn’t checking out my ass, he just couldn’t help but notice that the purple panties had a black arrow on them with the words “take aim” underneath.

“Plates and stuff are in cabinets. Figure it out.” I directed as I continued my childish stomping toward my bedroom. “I didn’t wear them for you, by the way.”

I could have sworn that as I slammed the door shut, Clint muttered under his breath, “If only I could be so lucky” but that couldn’t be right. Clint was a good man, a bit flirtatious but never something that would mark him as unprofessional. He was an equal opportunity flirt. It didn’t matter if he was talking to a man, women, older, younger or human. I’d once even caught him flirting with the espresso machine when it was new, but _if _I didn’t mishear him – a big ‘if’- that would clearly cross the professional lines, wouldn’t it?

Flopping face first on my bed, I tried to put the thought out of my head. It didn’t matter. He was just my boss. None of this had to mean anything. He’s just helping me out. Because I got caught in a lie. He probably didn’t even think of me as anything more than one of the kids he hired.

After I dragged myself up, I gathered my bag and after slipping some sweatpants on, dragged it out into the living room. Clint had made himself at home, setting out two takeout plates of food. Eggs, potatoes and ham sat begging me to eat but no, I needed to shower first and wash away my shame.

I didn’t linger under the hot water in the small bathroom, though I wanted to. A quick wash down and some solid deep breathing had me feeling better. My wet hair was pulled into a low bun that gave away my lack of effort in it’s lopsided nature and wet strands sticking out here and there and a simple swipe of eyeliner had me looking good enough. A few more deep breaths and I stepped out of the steamy room and sat down to eat.

“I didn’t actually mean to get here this early.” Clint admitted as he pushed a pile of shredded potatoes around on the paper plate. When I made a sound that probably passed as an ‘oh’, he looked up at me and god dammit- I never thought I would be looking into his blue eyes at my shitty little table in my kitchen. “I could have sworn it was an hour later than it was.”

“Could have happened to anyone.” I say as if it hadn’t annoyed me to be woken up so early.

“Probably better anyway- we can get to the airport early. You never know what’s going to go wrong.” I resisted the urge to tell him that things had already started to go wrong since I was up an hour earlier than I wanted to be and opened the door to my boss and crush in my damn panties.

~~~~~<3

Once we left my apartment, I didn’t have time to be nervous about what charade we were trying to pull off. The first two taxis simply didn’t show up. It was as if the great black hole had taken them, forcing us to call for a third. Clint had forgotten to grab his suit and we had to go back for it. I hadn’t known until now that Clint had actually lived in an apartment above the cafe. I’m not sure what I had expected to be in the space though.

We parked around the back and I watched as Clint ran up stairs that looked like they couldn’t possibly meet code in their condition. His foot caught about half way up and the driver and I both could do nothing but cringe as he fell forward and hit the stairs hard.

It didn’t seem to slow him down at all however. He was up on all fours crawling up the stairs nearly as fast as he had been running before hand. It was honestly impressive.

He was only inside for a second before running out with the same reckless abandon, suit bag held over his shoulder and door pulled closed with the momentum of his run. I honestly expected him to fall down the stairs but instead, he grabbed onto the railing and hoisted himself onto it in a move I recognized from attempting it many times as a child.

For a few feet it seemed like it was going to work out for him far better than it had for me in my childish attempts. And then the suit bag got caught on a railing and pulled Clint sideways. It would make sense to slide off onto the steps and continue down the stairs like a normal human being. That is not what happened however.

I couldn’t do anything but watch as he leaned forward, over corrected and leaned back, too far back. In a blink of the eye, Clint’s head was going down and his feet were in the air as he grabbed at the railing. He caught it, for a moment and his body slammed into the side of the staircase. The blow surely knocked the wind out of him and his grip failed. Down he went and I fully expected to be calling for an ambulance.

Instead, he landed on his feet with his knees bent. He crouched with the force of the landing before standing tall as if nothing happened at all.

“Is he human?” Asked the driver.

“I thought so...” My voice trailed off as Clint opened the door and slipped into the back seat next to me. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Fine. Whacked my hip on the kitchen counter.” Clint glanced at me before requesting that the driver take us to the airport.

“You fell off the stairs!” I couldn’t believe he was going to talk about hitting his hip and not what we saw.

Clint at least had the nerve to look sheepish. “It happens.”

“It doesn’t just happen to people!” I throw my hands in the air.

“It does to me?” Clint laughed as the driver took us slowly toward the airport. He was lucky, this time I let the topic drop. It was that or tell him that he scared the ever loving shit out of me because that would mean admitting to him that I care about him.

~~~~~<3

The airport was a hectic mess. For all the time we thought we had, we got out of the taxi in time to find chaos and people everywhere. Clint grabbed the handle of his bag and mine and yanked them out of the trunk. Before I could protest, he had

both handles extended and in one hand and snagged mine in the other.

“What’s the rush?” His grip was too strong for me to pull from and I nearly tripped over my own feet as we ran.

“I got a text from the airline. Flight’s been changed.” Clint yelled over his shoulder.

“So? Didn’t we just get more time than?” I nearly bit my tongue and was far too tired for this right now. Still, part of me registered that I was technically holding his hand.

“I got the message over two hours ago. The flight was canceled and we got put in one leaving an hour earlier.”

“So what does that mean?” I’m huffing as I ask, breaths coming harsh and fast. I’m not nearly in good enough shape for this and yet Clint’s running as if he could keep going forever. Finally we come to a stop at the baggage check and Clint is in full command of the situation- something I admittedly find hot as fuck.

“That means they close the doors in about 15 minutes.” He answered, hardly looking at me as he handed over the bags. As if it was completely normal, he grabbed my hand and took off running. His other hand pressed his phone to his ear but I couldn’t focus on what he was saying and on not tripping at the same time.

As we approached security, an agent waved us to the side and I was sure we were being stopped for some stupid extra security check. My ankles and calves hurt from where my carry on kept smacking into them but Clint didn’t slow until we approached the agent.

The man was largely built in every meaning of the word. It looked like had a frown that hadn’t left his face in years. I smiled at him, weary from the running and he hardly paid me any mind. As illogical as it was, I was sure I was about to be arrested in the airport. I hadn’t done anything, but I was sure just the same. It’s odd how that happens.


	3. Chapter 3

“Mr. Barton?” The TSA agent questioned as we rushed up to him.

“Clint.” He confirmed with a nod.

“This way.” The Agent stepped to the side, motioning them through a gate to what had looked like a closed screening lane.

“What’s going on?” Clint gave my hand a reassuring squeeze before dropping it and lifting our bags onto the belt.

“I called in a favor.” He said as if that answered everything while actually answering nothing at all.

“To get us through security?” I asked as he slipped his shoes off. I copied him because that’s all I could do.

“Yep.” Clint damn near jogged through the scanner, beating our bags through the x-ray. I fully expected the Agent to make him walk back through for a more accurate read just to be a pain in the ass but he didn’t.

“How many favors do you have? And to who to pull this off?” I ask, rushing through as he lifted the bags off the belt. He had my shoes held out for me as I joined him.

“People.” He answered and it took everything I had to not throw my shoes at his handsome fucking face.

We ran and I tired to keep the thought of how unpleasant it was going to be to be crammed in the too small seats in a flying tin can while being out of breath and exhausted on top of being tired for the whole fucking day. At one point I had been looking forward to spending hours sitting next to Clint, so close that I could pretend that this trip wasn’t a sham.

Right now though? The idea was outweighed by the fact that there was going to be an open seat to the side of one of us and since we were moved off our flight, I could very well end up squeezed between Clint and some dude that was spilling over the seat, stinking of body odor and unable to stop talking. Every terrible American stereotype with me as a captive audience.

We made it just in time. We were the last ones to board and they shut the door to the terminal behind us. As soon as we were on the plane, that door was shut too.

I expected us to make our way toward the back of the plane. Our original tickets were for the economy seats so it seemed reasonable to me that our replacement seats would be as well. Because of this, when Clint stopped only a handful of rows back and hefted his bag up into the overhead bin, I walked right into him- full speed ahead.

He reached out and wrapped an arm around me, keeping me from falling and pulling me to his side in the process as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “You okay?”

“Fine.” Heat was raising in my face and I hated it. Still, I had one hand braced on his abdomen and I couldn’t make my brain tell it fall. His shirt was thin and I could just feel the ridges of muscle I didn’t honestly expect him to have through it. I tried to tell myself it was my imagination, that I was willing him to have a body worth daydreaming over. He laughed and they flexed and it took everything I had to step back and stop touching him. But god, I didn’t want to stop touching him.

“I’ll get it.” His voice cut through my daze.

“What?”

“You’re carry on. I’ll put it up. You want the window seat?” I dumbly handed my bag over.

“What?” I repeated and he laughed. God his laugh sounded so good. Still, it didn’t sound good enough to make me wish any less that a hole would open under my feet and swallow me whole at this point.

“These are our seats.” He pointed to the row of seats we were standing next to. They were first class seats, complete with small bottles of water on the armrest cup holders and little pillows sitting in the seats.

“Excuse me, could you both take your seats please?” A tall and lanky gentleman in an attendant’s uniform surprised me with his request. I hadn’t heard him come up behind me probably because I was still too focused on trying to imagine what Clint would look like without a shirt.

“Right.” I nodded and prayed again for the black hole to appear. When it didn’t, I slipped into the seat by the window and tossed my purse under the seat in front of me. Clint wasted no time sitting down in his seat and as soon as he was settled I asked, “How did we end up in first class?”

He shrugged, “Don’t know but I’m not complaining.”

~~~~~<3

The flight was overall peaceful. We chatted and sometimes, maybe even flirted. It’s so hard to say with him though I’m sure he means nothing by it. I tried to put his comments out of mind but it was hard not to let my heart flutter when he would say that he was sharing his armrest with the prettiest girl on the plane.

I wanted to talk to him more. Pass the time together. But for most of the flight, Clint slept. He so close to me, head tilted back and snoring softly. As much as I wanted to talk to him, as frustrating as it was, it was oddly nice.

Normally when I’d look at him, I couldn’t really look. I always had to worry about someone noticing me looking too long, looking too hard. I had to worry about him noticing. I had to protect my secret. But right now? Right now I could look. So I did.

I watched as his eyelids twitched and as he dreamed. I watched as he scratched at his arm and mumbled in his sleep. The sun highlighted the features of his handsome face as he slept. It brightened the honey tones in his hair, making it look lighter than the dirty almost blonde color it was.

It highlighted the freckles on his cheeks and arms, telling the story of sun burnt summers. The white of scars, light and thin scattered over his arms and I wanted to trace them, ask him about them but he was sound asleep. I’d seen how accident prone he was. Any number of small cuts and scrapes could be the cause and yet, I still wanted to know what the story was behind each and every one.

He’d mumble and moan in his sleep sometimes. It was hard not to allow myself to imagine what he would sound like moaning in another situation. It helped that when he’d mumble, it was normally something about coffee. But… sometimes? Sometimes it sounded like he could almost be mumbling my name.

~~~~~<3

Getting off the plane was one of the single most amazing feelings in the world. Clint had turned in his sleep and cuddled into my side at one point. It was amazing, how he could curl himself up around me in the small space and awkward seats. After a bit, he’d moved off me again and leaned back in his chair like a normal person.

In some ways I missed the weight of him pressed up against me. But maybe more than that, I was thankful to take a breath and clear my head. It was hard to breath with him so close, with him cuddled up to me like that. Every single breath I took smelled of him. Boy, did he smell good too. So good that it physically hurt.

Yeah, I spent the whole almost hour he was cuddled against me tensed up and now that we were walking through the airport, I was feeling it. Everything was stiff from being tensed up, from not relaxing combined with sitting in the same seat for what felt like a year.

I have a large family and so I had warned him they could be lurking anywhere. Once the plane landed, any time we were outside of the hotel room we were to act like a couple. I reminded him this in hushed whispers as we walked off the plane.

I also reminded him that he could call this off at any point. I wouldn’t blame him. I wouldn’t hate him. I’d tell my family it was me, not him that fucked things up.

Clint’s response? The man simply smiled down at me and laced his fingers in mine as we stepped into the open space of the airport where friends or family could be lurking anywhere.

I really wish I could say I wasn’t surprised by it. I wish I could say that the warmth of his hand wrapping around mine didn’t catch me off guard, that it didn’t bring a blush to my face but that would be a lie.

He didn’t have to hold my hand then. Plenty of couples didn’t hold hands while working their way through the airport. He didn’t have to. But he did. And I just had to trail behind him telling myself again and again that he was just a tactile person. It didn’t mean anything. Hell, he was probably more worried about losing me in the airport anyway.

When we got our bags and poured ourselves into a cab, I felt the weight of the trip crash onto me. Until now, I think in many ways it wasn’t real. But now? The weight of it zapped what little energy I had left.

By the time Clint sat down next to me in the cab after putting our bags in the trunk, I was already dozing. He said something to me, I heard it but the words just swam away. Instead of pressing whatever it was he wanted to tell me, he pulled me into his side as he gave the driver the name of the hotel we were staying at.

~~~~~<3

I was grumpy when he woke me up. My neck was kinked and I just wanted to keep sleeping for a year. But alas, this nonsense of us being at our hotel justified waking me. I couldn’t fault him for it, not really. I could afford to pay for the driver to stay parked until I decided I had napped enough.

“I always figured you were a morning person.” Clint laughed as he pulled our bags out of the back. “You’re always volunteering to work mornings.”

“Working mornings and getting woken from a nap after getting woken up at the ass crack of dawn are two very different things.” It wasn’t a complete lie. It was just that I left out the part where what made getting up at the ass crack of dawn to help open the cafe was worth it only because I got to spend the mornings with him.

“Fair point.” Clint laughed, taking both bags into his hands and leading us inside and stepping up to the counter. “Check in for Barton.”

“Ahh for the Matthew’s wedding?” The bubbly older woman behind the counter clearly knew something about my brother-in-law-to-be’s wedding.

“I- uh. Think so?” Stammering, Clint looked to me for confirmation. I nodded, fairly sure that was the man’s name.

“Oh- I hear the ceremony is going to be completely beautiful.” Knowing my sister, that was true. “I went to school with Matthew boys.”

“Yeah?” Clint nodded, clearly not invested at all in the woman’s chatter. I couldn’t blame him.

“Oh yes. When we got word this reservation was for the wedding, we upgraded your room.” She chattered on as Clint handed over his Drivers License.

“Is that so? Why, thank you.”

“Oh yes. It’s a magnificent room- no additional charge, mind you- king size bed for you and your lady to spread out in, beautiful bath- you’ll love it.”

“What about the other bed?” I asked before I thought twice.

“Other bed?” The woman paused. “Matt Matthew said the reservation was just for you and your boyfriend. We assumed you only needed one bed.” Oh shit. I needed to backpedal now.

“Ahh, my sister was thinking of swinging by for a visit.” Clint cut in. “She’ll just have to sleep on the couch if she does, right babe?”

“Right.” I squeaked. The sound made me cringe. How the fuck did I squeak? Am I a goddamn squeaky toy now? Is that what Clint turns me into when we’re outside the protection of the cafe?

The bellboy took our bags up for us as Clint took the key cards and slipped them into his pocket. He said something and I nodded, not really paying attention. ‘one bed’ kept running through my mind. It was on repeat even as he took me by the hand and lead me away with some excuse. He probably just said I was tired and I knew I looked the part.

I let him lead me down the hallway. We stopped in front of a room and he opened the door. Inside, we found a very nice room. It was large and open, with a mini fridge, microwave and small coffee pot. The bathroom was near the door and inside I saw a deep corner bath tub that had enough room for three and for a moment I daydreamed about sinking into it.

“Hey…” Clint cleared his throat before continuing. “You okay? I mean, with this? I can insist on another room or see if they can bring us another bed or something?”

With a shrug, I turned to face him. We were alone. In a hotel room. And somehow, that felt so much more like a thing than being alone together in my tiny apartment or in the cafe did. “It would look weird if you did. Someone would say something to Matt.”

“Right.” Clint nodded, still clearly not sold. There was a short silence as he moved around the room, tossing the bags onto the bed and opening his. “So? Ground rules? What’s the plan? Our story?” The questions were quick fire as he started putting things away. I followed suit, though I’d normally just live out of the suitcase for the week and a half.

“I told them I met you at work.” Clint handed me hangers as I talked. “Right about when you hired me. I guess… we’ve been together for a few months, going strong. You’re uh, camera shy so we don’t really have pictures.”

“We can spin that a bit and blame the business. Dating your boss doesn’t always look good. Same with me dating an employee. Plus you’re on a Stark scholarship and I’m friends with him. Keep it private while it’s new and all that.”

“Oh. I didn’t think about that.”

“I’m more than just a pretty face.” With a grin, he winked at me and I threw a shirt at him. He laughed and I couldn’t help but join. “But for real, anything else we need to figure out? What’s your mom going to expect to see?”

“I guess just normal couple stuff?” I shrugged. I didn’t want to think about this. I didn’t want to talk about it. It made me feel nervous to even think about the details of how this would work out.

“I mean, is she going to believe things if we just dance, hold hands and I call you by a pet name?”

“I don’t see why not?” My phone came to life and saved me from the conversation I really didn’t want to be having. I knew we needed to talk about it. To set rules and shit but I just can’t stomach the idea so instead, I answered my phone.

“Hello?” I paced the room. Sarah was on the other end, inviting us to drinks. I really just wanted to sleep but as I parroted the invite to Clint, he nodded eagerly. As much as I didn’t want to, I agreed.

“What kind of name is ‘Matt Matthews’ anyway?” Clint asked as I hung up the phone.

“The groom’s name.” I answered with a roll of my eyes as if I hadn’t made endless jokes about it when Sarah had first started dating him a year ago. Clint didn’t need to know that.

“Yeah but,” Clint grabbed a shirt out of the closet and pulled his tee over his head. I was dumbfounded as he tossed it into the corner as if I wasn’t standing right there, looking at him. “Who has a son and decides to give them that kinda name? That’s like me having a boy and naming him ‘Bart Barton’.” I didn’t say anything. “You okay?”

“Yep.” As he turned to better face me, I turned away. Nope. I didn’t need to see my boss shirtless. “You’re not wearing a shirt.”

“Shit, I didn’t even think about changing shirts. Sorry! I can-”

“Nope, it’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting… It’s fine.” As I try play it cool, I rock on my feet.

It’s hard and I honestly did try to avoid looking into the mirror in front of be as he turned and grabbed the button up shirt off the bed. I felt a bit guilty for looking but in the end, I couldn’t help but watch his muscles flex as he moves. I always knew he had strong arms, I could see them most days with his sleeves pushed up over his elbows.

And I expected him to be in decent enough shape considering. But I hadn’t expected him to be toned and firm. I didn’t expect him to look like he would be perfectly at home in any gym.

I really didn’t need to see this. My crush was already out of control. I was already stuck spending the next week and a half pretending he was mine. I didn’t need to know that his back, chest and abs were good enough to grace many romance covers. It wasn’t fair.

I honestly wasn’t sure how I was going to survive the next two and a half weeks. Hell, if I was honest with myself, I wasn’t sure how I was even going to survive drinks with Sarah and Matt Matthews with Clint Fucking Barton at my side knowing under that shirt was… THAT.

Pray for me.


	4. Chapter 4

Absently I smoothed down the silky fabric of my blouse as I paced back and forth in the room. Clint was on the phone with the cafe manager he left in charge for our trip for a quick check in before we headed out to the tavern. Sarah said the place was just fancy enough to make me want to dress up a bit but I couldn’t really be sure how much of that was from her simply not wanting me to embarrass her with my ratty jeans and tee.

It wasn’t really that I had dressed up all that much but for me, it was something. My jeans didn’t have a hole in them and they were clean and neat for once. They were not faded. Matched with a shinny lavender blouse, I thought I looked pretty damn good, all things considered.

The fabric was so soft and smooth, while I waited I kept running my hands over the fabric. I nearly jumped out of my skin when a large warm hand ran down my back.

“It’s so smooth!” Clint laughed while slipping his phone into his pocket. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it. You kept petting the shirt so I wanted to too.”

“Everything good at the cafe?” It was so damn hard to pretend like it was normal for her boss’s hand to rest on her lower back, thumb rubbing back and forth.

“Yeah. The order of syrup was late and panic insured since they’re almost out of vanilla.”

“Oh heaven forbid, no vanilla lattes.” I laughed at my own joke because I wasn’t sure what else to do.

“Indeed!” He opened the door for me and the show was on. Oddly enough, it felt like the show had already started before we left the room because nothing seemed different when we stepped out that door.

“And what did you tell them to do, in your infinite wisdom?” It felt so close to normal to tease him, to joke like this while we walked down the hall. His hand fell from my back but when we turned to the lobby, his fingers laced with mine. It was just an act. It was just part of the act. I had warned him that family, friends could be lurking anywhere.

“Mix vanilla extract with one of the extra bottles of simple syrup. Taste and adjust as needed.” Clint shrugged but it was honestly something I wouldn’t even have thought about doing.

“The Taxi should be out front.” I nodded.

~~~~~<3

Clint helped me out of the cab but my feet were hardly on the pavement before arms wrapped around me suddenly. The force knocked the wind from my lungs and a thin frame with surprising strength lifted me up off my feet and spun me around. All I could see was a flurry of blonde hair and a pink lacy jacket- if you could call it that, it wouldn’t keep her warm. It was her laugh that gave Sarah away, as if someone else would quite literately sweep me off my feet.

“It’s so good to see you!”

“You just saw me like a week ago.” My laugh probably gave away that I wasn’t nearly as indignant as I wanted to pretend to be. Sarah and I had our differences, we didn’t always get along now or as children but one thing never changed. Though sometimes I didn’t like her, I always loved her.

“Like two weeks ago!” She insisted as she put me down and directed her attention to Clint and the wide smile on his face.

“Clint! It’s so good to see you!”

“It’s so good to get out of the city.” He wrapped her in a warm hug for a moment before stepping back to my side, heavy hand resting on the small of my back and thumb stroking the smooth fabric.

“Guys, this is the man I’m going to spend the rest of my life with, Matt.” It took everything I had to not roll my eyes. I was never the most dramatic when it came to romance. “Matt, this is my sister, Alexis and her boyfriend, Clint.

Matt stuck out his hand first to Clint to shake his hand. “Matt Matthews. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

I was proud of Clint for not rolling his eyes at the name. But really, what sort of name was that? I couldn’t get ‘Bart Barton’ out of my head ever since Clint made the joke about the names and my mind went there every single time I heard Matt’s name.

~~~~~<3

“So, what do you do for a living?” Matt asked once we were seated, eyes trained on Clint as if trying to decode him.

“I own a cafe, actually.” Clint answered, not shying away from whatever was going on in Matt’s head. Sarah took the chance to tell Matt how cute the cafe was and praise the coffee as we ordered drinks.

One drink became two. Two became three and I was feeling pleasantly warm. Clint’s arm was draped around my shoulders at times, fingers playing with the edge of my sleeve. Everything seemed to be going well. Clint was always present with subtle touches and warm smiles while staying focused on everyone at the table. Just enough of a show to sell our story and it felt so normal, so natural.

“So-” Matt started as he finished his third drink and ordered another. “What’s the deal?” He waved a straw at us, clearly feeling the drinks and Sarah looked a little more worried than I would have liked.

“Excuse me?” Clint asked. He was calm, relaxed and unconcerned even as I stiffened up at his side. His large hand found my knee and rubbed. I wondered if he was trying to tell me something. Perhaps, ‘calm down, I’ve got this’?

“You’re clearly older.” Matt started only to have Sarah hush him for being out of line. “You normally date the kids you work for?”

“It’s fine, I’ve got nothing to hide.” Clint assured Sarah before directing his attention to Matt. “This is actually the first time I’ve involved myself with an employee before.”

“So it’s not some weird power thing you get off on?” Matt slurred, taking a long sip from his drink before starting again. “If it’s not a power thing, what? There something wrong with you so you can’t get a woman your age?”

“Matt!” Sarah snapped again before turning her attention back to us. “I am so sorry, normally he doesn’t drink.”

“No, I get it. He’s just looking after your lovely sister.” Clint leaned back, tipping the chair back in the process before declaring, “I’m a mess” as if that solved everything.

“So you can’t get a real woman?” Matt challenged.

“We’re leaving. I’m so sorry, Clint.” Sarah pulled Matt to his feet only to have to support him as he wobbled.

“I haven’t dated in a very long time.” Clint answered., again leaning back in his seat, tilting the chair back and eyeing Matt with a simple confidence that would not waver. “I work too much and I take shit care of myself. I ordered pizza for dinner five days in the last week and my laundry only gets washed when I’ve run out of boxers. I’m not perfect by any means.

I don’t know what the hell she sees in me, but she sees something. And she makes me want to live up to whatever it is that she sees- to be a better man. Is there an age difference between us? Clearly. I’m the oldest person at this damned table. And I can assure you at no point has our relationship and its status mattered in way of her employment. And most of all, she’s an adult. As am I.

What we have works for us, right now. And if or when it stops working, we’ll move on and deal with that like the adults we are. Now, let the lovely Sarah take you home and put you to bed.”

“I am so sorry.” Sarah again repeated.

“It’s fine.” Clint assured her. “Don’t worry about the tab, I’ll get it. Just get him home and into bed. He’ll sober up by morning and feel like an ass, I’m sure and that’s good enough for me.”

Sarah nodded once and I watched as she walked Matt out. It was shocking, seeing him act that way and I felt terrible. Clint didn’t deserve that and my heart hurt. He said such amazing things, such wonderful things and really, none of them were true.

“Well, that happened.” Clint announced and orders us another round. “We deserve one more drink.” He reasoned.

Though Matt and Sarah left, Cling and I still sat close. His fingertips still trailed over the fabric of my blouse at times. Heads tilted together as we joked. It was easier to joke about what had happened than to deal with the fact that Matt had been so clearly out of line. I tried so hard to ignore all the warning signs screaming at us that he had some issues.

But what could I say? What could I do? They were getting married in a few days time and all I really had was one bad dinner with him. That’s hardly something to raise flags about, right?

I knew I had to talk to Sarah about it. There was a point in our lives where we talked to each other about everything. It’s hard to say exactly when that changed but it did. Now, I didn’t know if I was overstepping to bring up my worries after just one dinner.

“You okay?” Clint’s words were slightly slurring and I wondered if mine were too.

“Yeah, just thinking.”

“No thinking.” He declared as he stood from his chair. With an inviting hand I couldn’t turn down, he pulled me from mine and onto my feet. I loved the way he seemed to pull me around as if I weighed nothing. And after seeing him without a shirt, it made sense why he was able to.

“What?” Yep, I’m the picture of class and can totally keep up with what’s going on around me.

“No thinking, let’s dance.” The way he said it made it seem as if it was decided.

“I can’t dance.” I had a feeling it really didn’t matter, though.

“It doesn’t matter.” At least I got that much right. “I’ll teach you. And when in doubt, have another drink.”

“Because that’s responsible?”

“Just like imaginary boyfriends?”

“Fair point.”

~~~~~<3

After a certain number of drinks, I don’t think I cared anymore that Clint and I were only playing pretend. He was a good dancer, spinning me around the small dance floor in the restaurant. I however, was tripping all over myself yet somehow, he kept me from falling even as the world tilted and twisted with each spin.

I was so damn aware of the way his hands moved, caressing me as he guided me. The dining room was open and as the night got colder I became more aware of the warmth of him. Sometimes, he held me close as we swayed and moved together. Closer than I had ever dared to expect outside of maybe the wedding reception itself.

His eyes were bright and blue, alight with the twinkling lights around us. There was a life to him that I hadn’t seen before. That’s not to say that he seemed dead or undead before- just that this was a different light in his eyes than I saw when he was setting up a new machine or trying out a new mix of syrups.

It was a light I was having a hard time looking away from. It was a light that made it hard to remember that this was just a game. Just pretend. But god how I wanted it to be more than that. To be something other than that. To be real.

Perhaps I was just drunk, but it seemed like he was getting closer as we swayed to a slower song. His breath fanned over me and I swear, I hadn’t noticed it before. His hands were so large and his grip on me was firm. I felt safer in his arms playing a game of pretend romance than I had with any man I had actually dated in a long while.

He was getting closer, I was sure of it.

“Son of a-” Clint blurted out when he crashed his hip into the corner of a table, sending drinks spilling and people clamoring to stand. “I am so fuckin sorry.”

“Watch where you’re walking.” A man snapped.

“I’m so sorry- let me- Hey, let me get those for you? Yeah? I’ll cover those and all’s good, yeah?” Before I knew it, Clint was pulling me toward the hostess and passing his card. In what seemed like a blink of the eye, we were outside and running down the street before anyone could chase us down and demand the cost of dry cleaning from Clint.

The alcohol was swimming through my system now, mixing with the adrenaline and fresh ocean air. It was an intoxicating mix that seemed to sweep us away. The stars glittered in the sky and off of the distance, I could hear the waves crashing against the shore. Part of me wanted to chase that sound, to chase the perfect romcom this night had become.

“We should get back to the hotel.” The words broke the spell. It wasn’t fair. But he was right. We needed to get back, get some sleep and be ready. I had Sarah’s bachelorette party to go to tomorrow night and my liver needed every second it could get to recover.

~~~~~<3

The room was cool and I would have given anything to be wrapped up in Clint’s arms to stay warm for the night. It was a dumb daydream and I knew I needed to not let myself get swept away with the act.

I grabbed an over sized tee shirt and a pair of shorts out of the dresser drawer I had dumped my clothes in earlier and made my way to the bathroom. The world tilted and swirled around me still but after downing a glass of water, it got better.

After changing and washing the day off my face, I almost felt human. Almost. Turning off the bathroom light, I found Clint already asleep on the couch in nothing but a pair of purple plaid pants slung low on his hips.

There wasn’t a reason not to take in the sight of him. Every bit of him could have been sculpted from stone. Yet he had countless small scars. Clearly, her boss had lived his life and in a way that the story was written on his body. It only made her want to know him more.

I could have stood there watching him sleep all night but I didn’t. The bed was singing a siren’s song that pulled me away, convinced me to go to it instead of enjoy the view I would only get to see a few times in my life.

As an afterthought I turned back toward him, grabbing a blanket from the closet on my way to his side. After carefully draping it over him, I knelt at his side. I’d never seen a more handsome man with my own eyes. I don’t think I could ever find another.

It was impulsive. I leaned forward and ever so softly pressed my lips to his cheek.

I don’t know what I thought that would do or change. I guess I had hoped that it would somehow cure me of my childish crush, having gotten to kiss him. Yeah, it was just on the cheek but it was just a crush. Still, as I stood up- my heart pounded in my chest.

It didn’t change anything. Nothing changed. Since nothing changed, I’d just have to climb into the bed and pray for the spell to be broken by morning.

~~~~~<3

The sound of grumbling woke me. The room was dark but there was just enough light coming in from the windows to see him. It was clear that he wasn’t comfortable. I could only imagine the aches and pains he would have by morning.

“Clint?”

“Shit.” The word was a hissed whisper. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Yet here we are.”

“You’re cranky when you first wake up.” The warm laugh filled the room.

“Pretty sure we had this conversation yesterday.”

“Fair point. Go back to sleep.”

“Will you?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“I’ll try.” The dark blob that I knew was Clint shifted around on the couch some more.

“The couch is pretty uncomfortable, huh?”

“I just don’t fit well.” He quickly followed the statement up with, “I’ll be fine though. Just gotta get used to it.” I stood, pulling a pillow to my chest in the process. There was something about being alone with him in the room, in the dark that made me feel more exposed than ever before. “What cha’ doing?”

It was so hard to think with how gravely his voice was, thick with sleep. “You take the bed for a bit. I’ll fit better on the couch.”

“I’m not making you sleep on the couch.”

“Well you’re not sleeping on the couch, either.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You wont.”

We bickered back and forth about who would sleep where when he stood, rather suddenly and the dark figure stalked through the room. It was hard to keep track of where he was as he moved through the shadows with silent ease.

His arms were around my waist in an instant and a shriek slipped out of my lips only for me to clamp my hands over my mouth to cut it off before someone called the cops.

“What are you doing?!” I demanded.

“Sleepy… ‘m tired.” He grumbled as he lifted me up and tossed me on the bed.

I bounced a few times and he climbed in next to me. “What are you doing?!”

“It’s big enough for both of us. This is dumb. We’re adults. Go to sleep.” He demands as if it was that easy. Yet somehow, listening to his soft snores I eventually managed to do just that.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warning: Talk of a dick and describing of a dick (I'm not talking about Matt, fyi)

Chapter 5

It was warm and the bed was so comfortable. Warmth surrounded me and it felt like I was sleeping on a cloud. I could stay this way forever. I wanted to stay this way forever. There was soft snoring behind me. It was a constant reminder that I wasn’t alone. As soon as the day started, I’d had to put on the face and pretend like I didn’t mean everything I said.

Right now, it was safe. Clint was asleep next to me and the bed was warm and comfortable. A sigh slipped from between my lips as I rolled over to face my sleeping bed mate.

Light brown hair that could almost be called a dark dirty blonde was a mess, sticking up every which way. Lips parted and stubble was heavy on his face. I wanted nothing more than to reach out and feel the scratch of it but instead, I only watched.

As I watched, he shifted and scratched at his stomach through the blankets. He mumbled something, I couldn’t make it out and that was probably for the better anyway. I watched in subtle fascination as he tossed his arm up over his head only to have his hand smack hard against the ornate headboard.

He grumbled again as he yanked his hand down. I needed to get up. It wouldn’t do to get caught watching him sleep like some sort of creeper. One sigh, than another and I rolled over, completely intent on getting up and starting the day.

Clint however, though he was still snoring, seemed to have a different idea. With a grunt and another scratch, he rolled over. I tried to slip out of the bed but as I scooted, his leg reached around and hooked over my hip. I froze, hoping that he would- honestly, I don’t know what I was hoping for.

His foot wiggled as he pushed it down, slipping his toes between my thighs. His arm joined the party, draping over me and slipping around my side. More mumbled words slipped from him as he tightened his grip and in the process, pulled me flush against him.

What was that sound?

That was the sound of my heart stopping. We were tangled in blankets but I could feel every bit of him. I could feel the muscle in his arms flex as he tried to pull me even closer. I could feel his chest expand with each breath. I could feel his puffs of breath in my hair.

I could also feel his… oh my god, kill me now. Good morning, Clint Barton. Someone’s standing at attention first thing in the morning. At least I knew his… parts all appeared to work as well as I had hoped and daydreamed. I could feel so much of him. He was sizable and firm and throbbing. If I closed my eyes I could pretend that-

Oh my god. What the ever loving fuck was I thinking? He’s my boss. We’re not actually dating. He doesn’t like me like that. I shouldn’t be thinking about his-

Clint rolled his hips against me, a soft groan falling from his lips.

Nope. Nope. I needed to get out of this bed right now. With a deep breath, I lifted his arm off of me. It took effort to wiggle my upper body out from under him while he, in his sleep, kept trying to capture me in his arms again.

I thought I had more room. It’s a king sized bed for god’s sake! So, needless to say, it surprised me when I finally got out of reach of his arms I slipped off the edge of the bed. Head first, of course and I landed with a thump on my shoulder.

“What happened?!” Clint was up in a instant. He was on his hands and knees, looking over the side of the bed at my crumpled form. For a moment I considered crawling under the bed and hiding because, really? Now he wakes up?!

“I fell.” What the hell else could I say? He had eyes. He could see me in a crumpled heap on the floor.

“Get up here.” He reached down and offered me a hand. I spent a few extra moments admiring how the soft light from the cream curtains in the window played over his muscles and framed his upper body before taking hold of his hand. “Off the floor with you.”

Again with the strength I kept marveling at, he pulled me up off the floor and onto the bed with him. It was a fascinating show, being able to watch how each muscle twitched and moved. The momentum of the pull brought me up far faster than I would have liked. I was too distracted watching him and trying to keep my drool within my mouth to pay attention to getting my feet under me.

Rather than standing when Clint pulled me up, I followed the momentum forward and right into my almost naked boss. I had to repeat that to myself, over and over again as my hand hit his firm chest and we fell back together in a heap. A laugh slipped out of him as his arm wrapped around my waist. He caught me and held me close for reasons I couldn’t even begin to understand.

And then, that hand slipped from my back. It was as if he realized that though we shared a bed last night, it wasn’t for any reason that mattered. Still, the way his hand dropped- it stung. He was probably reminding himself that I’m only his employee just like I was reminding myself he was only my boss.

It still hurt though. I scrambled to get off of him without touching him. My leg brushed against a hardness in his boxers as I climbed off of him and it was so damn hard to pretend like I didn’t notice. He had to have felt it. Hell, he had to know I felt it.

But we’re adults here, right? So we could address this and move on, like adults, right? It didn’t have to make things weird while we’re on this trip. It didn’t have to make things weird after this trip. I could act normal, even though I’ve felt my boss’ cock through his boxers, right?

Clint shifted in the bed, sitting up and clearing his throat. The sound of it drew my eyes back to him and inevitably toward the tent around his crotch. The slit in the fabric was straining and when he shifted…

Yep, it was time to get up. I needed to get up and get dressed. Without a single word, I scrambled to the edge of the bed and launched myself to the dresser. Without care, I grabbed a handful of clothes and locked myself into the bathroom.

With the door shut behind me, I leaned against it and closed my eyes. A moan wanted to slip from my throat. The sight of him had burned into my mind. I could still see it oh so clearly. I could see the head of his cock through the fabric. I could see the shape, the ridge of the head imprinted where he strained against the thin fabric. Through the slit in his boxers I could see the color, violently pink. He was engorged and begging for attention that I would love to give it if only we were not playing pretend.

“He is my boss.” It was a whispered prayer as I started the shower.

“You okay?” The voice of my personal demon came through the door.

“Fine.”

“Did… Did I do something wrong?” There was a thump and it sounded a lot like Clint leaned against the door. “Look, if I did, I’m sorry. But if I don’t know about it, I can’t make it better. I can’t change it. If it’s from sharing the bed- I can sleep on the couch next time.”

“No!” Well way to play it cool. “I just- I really had to pee and figured I’d take a quick shower is all. I’m good. You’re good. We’re good. Right?”

“I know it’s a bit weird.” He didn’t sound all that reassured. I’d never heard him sound quite like this. It was like a wall I didn’t know he had up had fallen down sometime in the middle of the night. “You’re the best employee I have. I’m not sure if I’ve ever told you that, but you are. I know I can be a handful sometimes but I just… You had talked yourself into a corner and I wanted to help you out. I never thought about… If you even wanted my help. If you want me to go at any point, I will.”

This was beyond weird. It would save me untold amounts of embarrassment, having him leave. I could even blame Matt, say he offended Clint so much he felt the need to leave. I had an out. Clint had an out. But he was leaving the choice up to me. But it didn’t sound like he wanted to leave. It sounded like there was so much more meaning to his words and for the life of me, I couldn’t understand what that meaning was.

Truth be told, I didn’t want him to leave. After telling him so, I took a shower. A long shower, as hot as I could stand it. I tried to burn away the impure thoughts and when that didn’t work, my hand snaked down between my legs. Whimpering moans slipped from my lips as I brought myself to a sweet orgasm with thoughts of Clint, naked and between my legs.

Clint let out a low whistle when I finally emerged from the bathroom. When he motioned for me to do a spin, I indulged him. It was impossible to resist the urge to sway my hips as I spun.

“Looking good.” The complement was slow and drawn out. “I expected you to look good since you took so long I had to go use the lobby bathroom to pee but still damn impressive.”

“Sorry!” After spending what I could admit was something resembling a year in the shower I couldn't be displeased with his reaction. I had taken my time doing my hair and makeup. I did feel a bit guilty about holding the bathroom hostage for so long enough that he had to resort to going to the lobby to use theirs. “Why didn’t you ask?”

“Figured you had something you were working through. It- I know you were going through something this morning and we don’t have to talk about it. I hope its not something you’ll hold against me. Going to the lobby for my morning piss so you can have the time you need to work through whatever and to come out looking this damn good- worth it.”

“You should have knocked.” It was worth trying to convince him otherwise even if in truth, I did need that time. It helped me get my head on straight after seeing way more of my handsome ass boss than I was mentally or emotionally prepared for. Someday, he would find a girlfriend, a real girlfriend and he would fall in love with her. She would be damn lucky to have a man who would rather go to the lobby to pee than disturb her while she was doing her hair or makeup.

“And interfere with you getting ready- never!” With a roll of my eyes, I turned my back on Clint and his dramatic hand to his chest. “So, what’s the plan today?”

“I’ve got the bachelorette party tonight.” Things felt almost normal as I made my way to the small dining table with a breakfast spread out. “Did you get us breakfast?”

Looks like a long shower, doing my makeup and hair did nothing to spruce up my brain. Way to step up and state the obvious.

“Yeah, figured after all that primping, you would be hungry.” It was hard not to look into his eyes as he sat down across from me. His foot brushed against my shin as he crossed his legs under the table and I tried to ignore it. “Excited for the party?”

“No, not really.” I admitted. “I’ve never been to one before and I’m sure it’s not like the movies.”

“Probably.” Clint shrugged as he shoveled some eggs into his mouth. “But it could be. I've been to some that were like the movies, some that were not. Bachelor parties, not bachelorette.”

“One could hope. At least the party would be entertaining.”

“Don’t cheat on me with a male stripper, okay?”

“I promise not to cheat on my fake boss boyfriend.” I almost choked on my potatoes laughing.

“Real boss, fake boyfriend!” Clint covered a waffle with too much syrup and refilled his coffee.

“Your coffee is better than this.” I don’t know what possessed me to say it but it wasn’t a lie.

“Careful.” Clint eyed me over his mug. “Talk like that and I could fall in love with you.”

~~~~~<3

“Talk like that and I could fall in love with you.” His words ran through my mind on repeat as I glared at my second drink. This party wasn’t much of a party at all. Matt Matthews was a man from a large family of women, it turned out. And that family was likewise from a large amount of money.

They made up a large portion of the party and leaned toward a classier type of event. I sat here, sipping on a red wine that likely costs about as much as I make in a week. I had a paint brush in one hand while my thoughts were running wild. They tended to dart between that thing Clint had said- completely in jest, I’m sure- and how Sarah was not the type to call a ‘sip n’ paint’ class a ‘party’.

Soft voices whispered as the instructor described methods of blending colors for sunsets. Globs of paint moved across canvases and every so often there was a sniffle or cough. It was nice enough, I guess.

It took everything I had to not go for the third glass of wine as the class came to an end. I was already getting looks from the snobbier members of our party for finishing my second glass.

“That’s oddly dark, for a sunset.” Marci, Matt’s sister commented while standing next to me. The room was open and she didn't have to stand so close while looking disapprovingly at my painting. “You should have used more yellows and oranges.”

I shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter.”

“Why did you use so much purple, anyway?” Sarah asked. I assumed she was trying to come to my rescue but it was hard to be sure anymore.

“Clint likes purple.” The words were out before I could stop them. Damn wine.

“Ahh, so this is for your boyfriend.” Sarah teased, a warm smile on her face.

“Matt told me about him. Said he’s your Sugar Daddy or something?”

“Excuse me?” Sarah and I gaped at her, our voices mingling into one in indigence.

“Matt- he was telling us that you were seeing your boss for job security or his money or something?” Her voice was hesitant, as if she was suddenly unsure of the facts. “Matt said you had an arrangement with him?”

“Nope.” The word felt like ice as I forced it out. In no way ever did I expect that I was going to have to defend my fake relationship with my boss like this. “Clint would never- I would never agree to that. I’m with Clint because I love him. He’s with me because he loves me. I don’t get special treatment at work. I don’t get extra pay. I don’t get anything but Clint from the deal.”

“Oh- I’m sorry. Please excuse me, I misunderstood.” Marci retreated with her painting, leaving me fuming with Sarah at my side.

“I’m so sorry. I’ll talk to Matt- I’m sure she just misunderstood what he said...”

“Right.” The word is brittle in my mouth. “Why a ‘Sip n’ paint’ for the party? Really? It isn’t like you, it’s not what you talked about having as a kid and teen? I thought you wanted a real party?”

“Matt and I agreed that since his family was going to be a part of our parties that we would keep things classy. Limited drinks, classy activities.”

“No strippers.” I offered, cracking a smile regardless of how Marci’s words still stung.

“No strippers.” Sarah agreed. “For either of our parties. It was Matt’s idea and I think it’s a great way to start a marriage, not ogling to bodies of others.”

~~~~~<3

“Welcome home babe!” Clint called as soon as I opened the door and it made my heart so warm. If only it wasn’t an act performed on the off chance I wasn’t alone.

“It’s only me.”

“Welcome home just the same.” Clint stood from the desk where his laptop was set up and offered me a warm smile. It wasn’t fair that he was only my boss. “How was the party?” After a beat he added, “Is that a painting?”

“Yep.” I let the p pop, tossing the painting onto the couch. “The party was a ‘sip n’ paint’ party and the music was classical. The wine was expensive. Hope you had more fun than I did.”

“Matt called.” I grunted and Clint laughed. Should I even tell him about what Matt was saying about us? Did it matter? “Invited me to his bachelor party tomorrow night.”

“Don’t get excited. They’re having classy events. No strippers, only light drinking. If you’re lucky you won’t have to paint.”

“Aww, I was looking forward to painting a night sky to match yours!” Clint picked the painting up and leaned it against the wall on top of the desk. “So I can see it while I work.”

“Why? It’s shit.” Okay, I was more than a little bitter about how the night had gone. I had all these ideas of what the party should have been like and every single one of them had shattered. It wasn’t fair.

“I like it, though.” Pride was radiating off him and I rolled my eyes. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

I flopped onto my back on the bed with a huff. “I guess I’m just disappointed.”

Clint flopped next to me and I tried to ignore how his fingers brushed mine. “So, let’s go out. Your hair is still all done, your makeup is still flawless and you’re as beautiful as you were when you left for the party. Let’s go out to the club and have our own party.”


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

I didn’t even know this island had a proper club but Clint managed to find us one. There was no time to process what was happening when Clint ditched his tee for a royal purple button up shirt, again uncaring that he was dressing in front of me. Before I could even process the sight of his naked back and side, he was covered and dragging me out of the room all while trying to button up the shirt with one hand.

It felt like my brain was still back in the hotel room as we made our way through the doors. It was packed inside and the music was loud, thumping in the air. People moved, swayed and bounced to the music as if powered by the thud of the bass. It was intoxicating all on it’s own.

“Come on!” Clint shouted over the noise, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the bar. It was quieter at the bar but not by much. I couldn’t even make out what he had ordered for us before he was shoving a pink shot in my hand, complete with a thin slice of apple on the rim.

“What’s this?” I had to lean so close to him to make myself heard that I could smell his cologne.

“Washington Apple. Good.” He yelled as if it answered anything and I downed the shot.

“Lexis?” A voice called out, hardly heard over the thump of the music. The source of the voice found me before I could find them. I was wrapped up in a hug from Lauren, one of Sarah’s oldest friends.

“Lauren!” I had to shout but the shot mixed with the wine from earlier to make me care a little less. “I didn’t see you at the party earlier.”

“Sip n’ paint isn’t really my jam.” Lauren laughed in the too loud way that was so unique to her. “Honestly, that group isn’t much my scene anyway.”

“I feel you. It was surreal, all the expensive clothes and shoes and hair!” It felt so good to be around someone who wasn’t a part of what appeared to be the wealthy life Sarah was joining. “This is my boyfriend, Clint Barton.” I patted his chest with warm affection that I wasn’t sure was fake. “Clint, this is Lauren- Sarah and I grew up with her.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Clint shook Lauren’s hand and pulled her to him for a quick hug.

With Lauren here, I had no reason to resist the urges I had to touch Clint and he seemed to accept the attention eagerly. His hand was always at my side, on my back or pushing my hair behind my ear.

The second drink was soon replaced by the third and Marci somehow joined the dance floor. It became a personal attack that I’m rather sure no one else was aware of when she raised an eyebrow at Clint and I.

In response, I pulled him on the dance floor and we bounced and rocked together to the beat of the music. It was impulsive and I wasn’t thinking. If I was, I could blame it on wanting to make sure there was no doubt of our relationship in Marci’s eyes.

In truth however, when I leaned in and pressed my lips to his, it was for no reason beyond because that was what I wanted to do. There was a moment when he hesitated, stiffened up and I was scared that he would push me away. We hadn’t talked about how far this act would go, affection wise.

There was a moment when it all changed. Clint let a sigh slip and relaxed into the kiss. It was sweet and chaste. Unfortunately, it was over before I wanted.

“Another drink?” His voice was rough. He swallowed twice before nodding to himself and walking off before I could even pull myself into answering. For the record, yes- I did indeed want another drink. Or ten.

I really, really needed a drink. I mean, I knew why I kissed him but still, the act of doing it left me light headed and begging for more. What hurt was that I knew why he kissed me back.

And it wasn’t for the same reason I kissed him. Not even a little bit, I’m sure. And that fucking stung. It felt like a knife to my heart knowing it.

He kissed me back because we’re playing a game of pretend. He kissed me back because we were being watched. He kissed me back to sell the story. And that was all. Nothing more.

What does one do when they are forced to pretend that they are totally faking the ‘fake’ dating part of the relationship? They take another shot. Then another. And eventually, you stop giving two shits what’s real and what’s fake. I know I did.

I lost sight of Lauren or Marci but it didn’t matter at that point. This was a once in a lifetime chance to live my daydreams so I was going to do exactly that. The music thumped and we danced, wrapped up into each other. Each drink brought us closer. Each drink made me braver.

At one point I didn’t care and I was grinding against him. His hands were heavy on my hips and I could feel how he reacted to my movements. He was stiff in what had to be uncomfortably tight jeans. I didn’t shy away from imagining what was hidden away from me. Sometimes, when I moved against him just right, a moan would slip out from his lips and knowing that I was the cause was the most powerful feeling in the world.

I hooked my arms up around his neck. Still, when he spun me around to face him, I went willingly enough. I could smell the whiskey we had begun drinking on his breath and it made me want to taste his lips again all the more.

So I did. It was sloppy and drunk but he responded. As we danced, he backed me into a table sending unmanned drinks spilling. I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything at the moment other than his lips on me and the way he rocked his hips into me.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, babe.” He growled in my ear and somewhere, in the back of my mind I was reminded that it indeed was a game to him. Only a show. It was an unwelcome realization that washed over me like a bucket of ice water.

“We should get back to the hotel.” The hint of invitation was missing from my voice. “It’s late and I’m tired.”

“Right.” I hated how his back stiffened. Had I misjudged? No, not likely. I was so sure that he was returning to his natural state, putting the act away. The game was coming to an end for the night.

~~~~~<3

I didn’t remember getting back to the hotel, come morning. Or I suppose it was rather more accurate to say come mid afternoon. We’d made it back from the club in one piece and but changing hadn’t been high on our agenda, judging from the state of our clothes.

I’d managed to shimmy out of my jeans at some point and Clint had tossed his shirt and belt but overall, no real attempts to change into pajamas had been made.

Waking up next to a shirtless Clint while I myself was wearing only my blouse and panties would have been jarring if not for the constant pounding in my head. I needed to get up, drink an ocean’s worth of water and brush that foul taste out of my mouth but none of that sounded like something worth getting up to do.

“You awake?” Clint’s voice was full of gravel and heavy with sleep. I don’t think he’d ever sounded sexier and I was honestly rather amazed my brain could even go there at this point.

“Something like that.” I grumbled, hardly above a whisper.

“Sounds like you feel like shit.” He laughed halfheartedly and I wanted to smack him for it but couldn’t get up the strength. “Glad it’s not just me.”

“What time is it?”

“Something like noon.” There was shifting and Clint sat up slowly, carefully cradling his head in the process. “Guess that was last time I woke up. Clock says two thirty.”

“Jesus.”

“I don’t think Jesus has any mercy for us today. But room service will. I’m ordering the whole fucking breakfast menu.”

“How can you think of food? The idea is nauseating.”

“Trust me, when it gets here you’ll want the greasy goodness.” He hesitated for a moment. “And I’m always thinking about food. At least, when I’m not thinking about coffee.”

“Coffee.” I moaned.

“Water first. Coffee second. You’ll feel better that way, trust me.”

“Wish it was your coffee.” I rolled pathetically toward the edge of the bed as Clint slowly stood. We were moving like we were fifty years older and to be fair, we both felt like that was the case. “Yours is better.”

“Keep whispering sweet nothings, babe.” I didn’t have it in me to worry about why he called me ‘babe’.

~~~~~<3

It took water, Aspirin, greasy food that would kill a weaker heart and long showers but by dinner the both of us were resembling human. That was good news for Clint. The bachelor party due to start in thirty minutes with the group of gentleman meeting in the hotel lobby.

“What are they planning, anyway?” I asked, spread out on the bed and surrounded by piles of text books, papers, notebooks, pens and highlighters. Clint was in the bathroom, finishing shaving after his second shower of the day. Something about trying to wash away the hangover.

“A tour of a brewery followed by a whiskey tasting and board games.” There was the sound of running water before a fresh faced Clint emerged from the bathroom without a shirt. I was getting oddly used to seeing his naked upper body. That's not to say it wasn't still hard to avoid drooling every time, at least the shock was starting to wear off. “Did a university classroom explode on our bed?”

“First- it’s part of being a student. Second- that sounds almost as boring as a sip ‘n paint.”

“Yep. Good thing we had all the excitement last night. I could use a boring night, being the old man I am.” I snorted at his comment. From what I could at least remember of last night, he didn’t dance like an old man at all.

“How’s this shirt?” Clint slipped on a smooth black button up and made quick work of the buttons. It fit him nicely, hugging muscles tightly enough to hint at them.

“Looks hot.” Good god, did I say that? “It’s a shame there won’t be any strippers for you to tempt.” Wow, with my brain on my studies for a change I was finding it easy to sass him. It was a hint of what we had when working together in the cafe. It was so much more intimate, being behind the closed doors of a hotel room and with blatant sexual undertones. It would have killed me before.

“Hey, can’t be tempting strippers when I’ve got a lovely girlfriend waiting for me back here?”

“Fake Girlfriend.” It almost looked like he deflated at my clarification. But that couldn’t be right. It’s not like that would matter. It’s not like he would ever actually date me. It’s not like he would ever actually care in that way.

“Right. Fake.” He nodded and it was like a switch flipped and that thing I thought I had saw was gone. Perhaps it was a figment of my imagination all along. “I’ve got to get going. Don’t worry about waiting up.”

~~~~~<3

I really, really didn’t want to go to this party. Back in the day, Stark had more exciting events in honor of surviving the work day. Regardless, it would do me some good to get some space, to get away from Alexis for a bit.

She made my mind go haywire. She’d always had that ability, in truth but I had spent so long trying to ignore it. I had tried to ignore how I’d looked forward to opening the shop a bit more on the mornings I had scheduled her to work. I tried to ignore the way it made me feel when she smiled at me.

And now I had to ignore how damn hard it was to pretend that I was just pretending.

“Son of a-” My foot slipped out from under me, thumping down three stairs before catching on the fourth. It should have been enough to let me get my feet under me again but my other foot caught on a stair and gravity did the rest. Near the bottom I was able to catch the railing. Somehow, once again, I had managed to avoid breaking any bones.

Now, you may be asking yourself why I’m going down the stairs. It would be a valid question. You see, there was a this toddler in line for the elevator and I’m honestly not sure what he was covered in. It was sticky and smelled sour.

I didn’t want that on my good jeans or my shirt.

You also could be asking yourself why I’m talking to myself as if there are other people listening. For that, I’ve got no valid excuses. Sorry.

Regardless of how I got there, I managed to not be the last one in the lobby. This is a point of pride for me. Don’t ask why but I can get up and open shop at the ass crack of dawn but being on time to pretty much anything else was asking a lot. Like, a lot, a lot. Hands were shaken and names exchanged in the airy lobby with too much tropical decoration. I resisted the urge to point out that I wasn't the last one to arrive.

“Gentlemen.” Matt stood tall and proud in a pressed suit that likely matched the price tag on some of Stark’s cheaper ones. It would be far outside of my typical budget, if not for the side work I still did at Stark’s request but I'm sure Matt thought he was showing everyone up. Such a child. “Let’s get some beers.”

Turns out the tour of the brewery was about as exciting as I had expected it to be. The highlight was the beer. If not for the lack of caffeine, I could very much see myself running a brewery rather than a cafe.

I wondered if I could do both? Or a caffeinated beer? I’m pretty sure I’d read at some point it was bad to mix caffeine and alcohol but also it was something I’d been doing my whole life. How bad could it be?

“So, Barton- that watch, Rolex?” Ugh, why can’t I be left to my beers in peace? Though I guess it made sense, we’d be moving out to the whiskey room soon and board games. I swear to god.

“Yeah. A few years old but it’s a trusty time piece.” Go away. Go away. Go away. It’s not like you don’t have a newer one on your wrist mister Rich-Name-I-Couldn’t-Bother-To-Remember.

“How do you manage to afford that on a barista salary?” Matt joined us as he motioned for the group of men to move on to the whiskey room. Yay.

“I own the cafe- that’s hardly a ‘barista salary’.” Bitterness may have slipped into my voice that time. “And I used to work for Stark Industries in Tech Security, if you must know.”

“Ohhh.” I didn’t like the sound of that. “So, is that why Alexis gives you time of day? She’s hot and trying to secure herself a sugar daddy after all.”

Is homicide still illegal on this island? Does Stark have any lawyers on retainer that would be big enough to get me off on one or two murder charges? Could I afford to break out of jail and move to a island without a extradition treaty?

“That’s not what our relationship is about. I’ve never once talked to Stark about her or given her money beyond her earned wages. I am not nor have I ever been her or anyone else’ sugar daddy. As far as I’m aware, she’s never been anyone else’ sugar baby.” The only thing that kept me from hauling off and decking his ass was the fact that Alexis would probably not like that. But god would I like to.

The trip from the brewery to the whiskey room was short and that was the only thing that kept me from hauling off and punching someone. Before we were let inside, Matt felt the need to stand in front of the group, arms spread wide and I really, really wanted to knock him down. It was so fucking tempting, you have no idea. He thought he was some grand shit with all his daddy’s money and investment income.

Wonder what he would think if I told him my bank account was bigger than his?

“Gentlemen.” Here we go again. I hadn’t had enough beers for this. “I billed this night as tame, as a classy event for gentlemen. And many of us know how those events go. Now, in the true tradition of gentleman's clubs, those of you who choose to move forward for the rest of this night will be doing so under sworn secrecy. Our wives, our girlfriends, our family shall not know of the events that shall transpire today.”

Who the hell did he think he was? Did no one ever tell him the reason we know so much about the underground gentleman's clubs was because people in general, suck at keeping secrets?

“On that note, let the real party begin.”


	7. Chapter 7

“On that note, let the real party begin.” The real party? The whole even reeked of entitlement but I didn’t have anything else planned for the night. I’m sure Matt would be glad to start some dumb rumor if I ducked out early anyway. Regardless, I wanted to get inside soon- the sky was heavy with clouds and I didn’t want to get rained on.

Matt turned and with all the grandeur his scrawny suit clad frame could gather, pulled open the double doors. Inside was a warmly decorated Whiskey room that looked unremarkable. As I moved inside, I saw more warm redwood than I could have dreamed of. I was a sucker for the warm woods and rustic furnishing, though this was with a much classier touch than my own place.

Mark? Or was it Tim? Whatever his name was, one of the men made his way to the sound system and turned the music on. God, I hoped the music was going to be better than this at the wedding. Bass thumped through the air and it frankly felt like a sin to listen to such trash music in a whiskey room but what did I know? I wasn’t some rich trust fund kid.

A drink was well within my rights. So I wasted no time in ordering a double of whatever they had on the top shelf. I’m not picky but I have class. And dammit, I’ll not be outclassed by a bunch of children. It was bad enough that I was stuck socializing with the kids tonight.

Alexis had mentioned that Sarah was her older sister. I wondered, as I sipped my drink, how much older than Matt she was. I knew there was only a few years between the two women but Matt acted a lot like a boy freshly turned 21 and less like a man each time I had seen him. The short beard on his face worked well to make his age a question.

Wouldn’t it be funny if he really was as much of a baby as he acted? His own insecurity would go a long way in explaining his issues with mine and Alexis’ relationship. Our fake relationship. I had to remember that. It wasn’t real. She thought I was just pretending.

That was going to be a battle for another night. Somehow, I had to make her see I wasn’t playing a game. I wasn’t pretending. She was a light in my life. I just had to somehow convince her to take a chance on this old man. Her reluctance would make sense, I am her boss and a good bit older than her. But man, I would give anything for just a chance.

Looking around the room again, I noticed there was a lack of board games but I was thankful for it. The idea of drinking expensive whiskey and playing children’s games wasn’t my idea of fun. Maybe sometime next lifetime when I had a family of my own, children of my own but not right now and at a goddamn bachelor's party.

There was a shift in the music, rather suddenly as I finished my first glass. The base got louder. The beat came to life and at that exact moment, the doors were thrown open by two of the men (boys?) standing near by. I was half amazed to not have the bad luck to be standing next to them at the time. That honor went to another who fell flat on his ass with the power of the blow. I couldn’t help but snicker at the man and his ill fitting suit.

Half a dozen or so trench coat clad figures, tall and lean were making their way to the door through the empty street. The streetlights reflected off the wet ground as they marched through puddles.

It was a sight to be seen, their hats perched on their heads, hiding their faces from the streetlights. Rain was coming down, dripping off the rims of hats and splashing up onto calves with each purposeful step. Artfully curled hair bounced on shoulders.

These women were here because they had a job to do and it was very clear that they intended to complete their tasks to the best of their ability. The click of their heels on the pavement seemed to echo over the loud music. Really, that was a figure of the imagination, it couldn’t be heard but with the way they walked, you expected to hear it. I learned a long time ago that it was often intent that mattered.

I’ve seen women like this before. They were high class and high dollar. There was a time where they were a staple of a Stark Industries party though those days had long passed. Stark had settled down with the woman I was sure would eventually be his wife. I could only begin to imagine how much money was spent hiring these women and how much they would make when their night was through.

So much for the high class boring event this was billed to be.

When the women marched into the center of the room, two of the men who seemed to be in the know slammed the door shut behind them with far more force than needed. It was like they were going for ominous and failed to hit the mark with the too bright lights in the taproom and the music being a touch too harsh.

The women spread out, hips swaying dramatically with each step. There was a stomp of their feet when they hit what I could only assume was their preassigned places. How long did they spend rehearsing this? Every one of their movements were perfectly timed and totally in sync. It was kind of creepy, if I’m honest with you.

They looked around. Right in front of me- I could lean forward, reach and I would be able to touch her coat. This one was a redhead. Curls of bright nearly orange hair bounced as she looked around.

Her eyes locked on me as the other women selected targets. Each, in perfectly synced motions, hooked the brim of their hat in their fingers and flipped it off the tops of their heads. With practiced skill, they grabbed the hats from midair only to hook them on their target’s heads. Again, it was impressive and made me question just how long they spent practicing this and even more so, how much they were costing per the hour.

I raised a finger and snagged the brim of the hat intended for my head. “No, Thank you.”

“Oh Sir, you wound me.” Her voice was sticky like syrup in a way I couldn’t even begin to understand or describe for you. She batted her big and clearly artificially colored green eyes at me and scrunched her lips together in a way that was beyond sexy. “Perhaps, I can persuade you?”

I watched with mild amusement as the women around the room were flirting with their targets rather than answer her. Typically, if they know you’re not going to bite, they go and other someone else.

The unnamed woman- I’ll call her Orangie- was shuffling even closer to me with her swaying hips. As I looked back, she was undoing the belt holding her coat closed. She was close enough now that the leather was brushing against my knees.

“Leave that on, won’t you?” It was time for another drink.

“Oh, do you like to the undressing, Sir?” Swaying her hips, she had the intention of getting between my legs and nope. It was time to stand up and make it very clear that I was moving away.

“Nope.”

She looked doubtfully at me and questioned, “Not at all?”

“I mean, yes but not you.” I corrected.

She had her belt untied and coat on the ground in a heartbeat. For a second I took in the black lace that hugged her curves and kept what she and many men considered to be the best parts of a women hidden but just barely.

The men around me were hooting and hollering, each having the time of their lives. Hands were on hips and bodies swaying.

“Go dance for someone else.” It was hard to make it any clearer for her that I wasn’t interested. Another night, I'd think about it but not tonight. Not right now. Not when I cared for someone.

Slipping out of my seat, I down the empty glass and went for another. It was going to be a long night. As much as I didn’t want to, I needed to stick it out long enough that Matt and most of his friends wouldn’t remember me leaving.

“Barton!” Jesus fucking Christ, wasn’t Matt busy? “Are none of these girls to your liking? They are young enough.” Don’t punch him. Don’t punch him. Don't fucking punch him.

“Oh they’re beautiful and seem very talented. Well worth the money spent on them.” That drink wasn’t in my hand fast enough.

“Than find one. Enjoy your night. It’s my last night as a single man, so let’s party it up.” I’m pretty sure, if I am honest with you- and I’ll be honest with you, that this isn’t going to be the last time Matt parties it up like a single man.

“I’m just here for the whiskey.” Tipping my glass to Matt, I smile. “Enjoy.” I say before downing the drink.

With that annoyance making his way to a too skinny blonde with breasts that were very fake and judging by the way they moved, very expensive, I went for another drink to sip on and keep my hands busy.

With my back from the room, I nearly jumped out of my skin when long soft hands slipped down by back and around my side. Looking down, I found perfectly manicured red tipped fingers running over my abdomen.

“You’re strong. Fit.” Organgie, of course.

“I have a girlfriend.”

She laughed and leaned, pressing her full and seemingly natural breasts against my back to whisper in my ear, “As do most of the men here. It’s a bachelor party, you’re single for the night. Let me show you a good time.”

“Not interested.” I wrangled her hands off of me and she went on her way with a pout. More than likely, she would try again soon. They always tried again, made the rounds until they found someone to accept the attention she was paid to provide.

Leaning my back against the bar, I tried to figure out how the girls ended up with a sip n’ paint party and the boys ended up in a whiskey room full of strippers. Around me, men gathered around women, sometimes two or three around a single woman. They rocked their hips, danced and ran their hands up bodies.

In the back corner, Matt sat with one of the blondes perched on his knee. His hand was inching up her fishnet covered thigh. His other hand was running through bouncing curls as she leaned down. Closer and closer, I watched in disgust as their lips came together in a kiss that looked more like he was trying to eat her face than kiss her.

If this is what bachelor parties were about, I’m pretty sure I’d rather skip it and just go to a bar with the guys if I ever got my turn.

Matt struggled to lift the blonde while he stood. Her legs hooked around him as he gripped her ass tightly. So tightly, in fact, that it was clear he was struggling to hold her up and walk. With nothing but disgust, I watched as they disappeared into a cleaning closet. Wonder how much Matt was paying for the full service treatment?

Not that I had anything against hookers. It was the oldest profession in the world and as long as everyone was consenting and sane, more power to them. I never found myself needing of their services but I could see their appeal.

Again, hands ran up my chest. “Go away, Orangie.”

“I want you.” leaning forward, she purred the words into my ear. Glitter from her hair dusted my shirt. Yeah, I’d much rather she didn’t touch me than go back to the room covered in stripper dust. “I won’t even charge. I want you so bad.”

When she pulled my earlobe into her mouth with a suck, I slipped out from between her and the bar. “Nope. No thank you. Not interested. Bye.”

After downing my glass in a swift motion, I made the most direct path to the door. Was Smith fucking the Asian stripper on the coffee table? Was Smith even that dude’s name? Real classy dude, whatever-your-name-is. At least Matt found a room.

~~~~~<3

I looked up from my laptop when the room door flung open. Clint looked beyond flustered and his shirt shimmered in the light. Looking at the time on my screen, I saw it was hardly even 11.

“You’re back early?” Not that I wasn’t happy to see him, I am. I just hadn’t expected him back so soon. “And shinny.”

“Matt is a fucking scumbag. As are most of his friends.” Clint started in on his buttons.

“Okay? How do you mean? And why do you shimmer?”

"I'm a vampire." Clint deadpanned before answering again when I only raised my eyebrow at him, “Stripper dust.”

I looked at him in confusion. “Stripper dust? How?”

“Well the board games Matt wanted his party to play was ‘pin the stripper with your pecker’. I was lucky to make it out with my life.”

“What are you talking about?” Closing my laptop, I slipped it into that little space between the bed and the nightstand on what was unofficially my spot.

“That party was anything but tame or chaste.” Clint announced, pulling his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it and tossing it onto the bed.

Looking down, I saw a picture of what appeared to be Matt trying to shove the entirety of a scantly clad stripper’s face into his mouth. There were two things that jumped out at me. Firstly, her hair was amazing- I could never get curls and volume like that. Secondly, I was looking at the single most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen. And I’ve cleaned the men’s room at the cafe.

“Strippers?” Shit. Do I tell Sarah? Is it my place? Fuck. I needed to talk to her.

“Strippers. God, Matt is such a dick. Thinks he’s so grand.” Clint finally got the shimmery shirt off of him and tossed it to the side, little specks of glitter poofing into the air.

“Did you have a good time at least? I mean- your shirt shimmers so you must have.” I tried to make it sound like I was okay with the idea. I tried to make it sound like the idea of Clint watching a stripper, touching her didn’t make me jealous.

“What?” Clint froze, standing shirtless in our hotel room with his chest on display for me. I couldn’t manage to appreciate it at the moment. “No. God no.”

“Were they that bad?” I tried to joke as Clint ditched his pants and grabbed a pair of sweatpants from the dresser and slipped them on. I did manage to find it in me to admire his ass as he bent over.

“No, they were beautiful. But I’ve got a fake girlfriend right here to be loyal to.” He didn’t even look at me as he spoke. That was a good thing, if he doesn’t look at me, he can’t see the emotions play across my face.

“You should have.” I say as if it wasn’t killing me to say it. “It would have been a perfect reason for us to fake breakup. You could have had an easy way out of this fake relationship.” Maybe if I say ‘fake’ enough, I’ll feel like it was fake.

“Naw, I don’t want to go out like. What if you change your mind or need another fake boyfriend?”

“Change my mind?” What the hell did that mean?

“Never mind. I’m talking nonsense, too much whiskey.” Clint climbed into the bed next to me as if that’s where he always belonged. Such stupid thoughts. It was too easy to forget that it was all pretend.

“Babe?” He whispered once he had the light off. I could feel him looking at me in the dark, his breath fanning over my shoulder. I don’t know why he insisted on calling me that when we were alone.

“What, Clint?” I whispered back.

“I didn’t touch them. I didn’t dance with them. I didn’t let them dance for me. I told them 'no' and when she wouldn't stop, I left and came back here. You believe me, right?” Why did this matter to him so much?

“Yeah, okay. Yes, Clint, I believe you. Go to sleep, you’re drunk.”

Rather than answer with words, a soft snore slipped out of my bed mate. I was now the only one left awake in the small room. My mind went wild. It was hard to remind myself, to tell myself and convince myself that he didn’t care about me in that way when he would say those sort of things.

If I wasn’t careful, I could believe he felt the same way as me. If I wasn’t careful, I could fall deeper in love with someone who was only putting on an act.

~~~~~<3

It had been two days since the bachelor party of doom as Clint had taken to calling it and I’d spent a lot of the time studying. Sometimes I studied in the room. Sometimes I studied at the beach. But I was always studying.

Clint had been gracious about it. He’d been more than willing to help me review material as needed. I tired to get him to go out and experience the island without me but he would refuse time and time again. It was nice, to not be studying alone and he made a good study partner. Better than my classmates.

He made sure I took breaks, ate and moved. Most importantly however, he was always willing to help while taking care to never be a distraction. The test I had to take was online and once I finished it, I was officially done for the summer. This one class was all that I had left to finish.

With a sigh, I closed the laptop lid and picked it up. With a risky flair of dramatics, I tossed the laptop away from me toward the foot of the bed where in bounced.

“All done?” Clint asked.

“All done.” I agreed.


	8. Chapter 8

I wasn’t entirety sure why Clint and I were required to attend the rehearsal but we were. It was probably mother’s doing. I’d managed to dodge her so far, the need to study made a good cover and I was thankful for it. With exams done and papers turned in, there was no way to get out of it.

So I dawned a sundress and pulled my hair back in a braid. Clint slipped into a nice pair of jeans and a button down shirt that somehow fit him perfectly, as if it was made for him.

“Dashing.” I laugh as I finally slip out of the bathroom and catch Clint twisting and turning in front of the large mirror on the dresser, fussing with his hair.

“You think?” The way he smiled at me- god he needs to stop doing that. It was like his whole face lit up and I gave him a shining gift or a cup of espresso or something. It was too easy to let myself believe he smiled that way because he valued my opinion.

“Yes-” There was knocking on the door before I could figure out a way to tell him he didn’t have to keep the act up all the time. Not when we were alone. “I’ll get it. Can’t have your hair less than perfect. Go back to fussing with your hair.”

“You sure?” Clint asked, leaning forward and poking at his hair.

Rolling my eyes, I made my way to the door. As soon as I opened the door, the act would be back on. Though if I’m honest, it felt like with Clint, he never stopped acting. It would be easier if he didn’t act the same regardless of if there were witnesses. If he would please stop acting like the perfect boyfriend all the time, that'd be great.

“Alexis!” Mom rushed through the door and wrapped me up in her arms before I even had the door opened all the way. “It’s been forever- you need to come home more often.”

“I can’t mom, classes and all that.” She pulled back from me and looked around with a ‘humph’. It was never a good sign when she made that sound.

“And is this the infamous Mr. Barton?” She let go of me and invited herself into the room. Clint looked over at where mom was storming her way through the space toward him, his eyes wide. Reaching out, he offered a hand as she came up to him with me trailing behind.

“Clint, please. And who might you be? Another sister?” I rolled my eyes so hard that I almost tripped.

“Sister?” Mom laughed. “Oh, I know I look young- too young but I’m the mother of the bride.” Too young my ass.

“Oh well,” He took her hand in his and brought her knuckles to his lips in a perfect Disney prince kiss and mom about melted. “It’s a pleasure to meet she who raised such lovely girls.”

“You can just call me Mary. Or Mom- it’s never too soon to start calling me mom.”

“Mom.” I scolded and though I couldn’t see it, I’m damned sure she smiled even wider.

“Well, maybe we’ll leave the ‘Mom’ title for Mathews to take up this week and we’ll see about that later, yeah?” He gave her a hundred watt smile and for a second I though about grabbing a vase and throwing it at him. How dare he have the never to be so charming.

“That’s a nice watch, you’ve got.” Mom ran her fingers over the watch as I made my way to Clint’s side to better supervise.

“Yeah- It’s served me well.” He chuckled, running his fingertips over the face of the watch.

“I think Matt has a newer model- he was talking about it at breakfast this morning.”

“I’m sure he was.” There was a hint of something in his voice that made me wonder exactly how much he didn’t like Matt. I felt bad, he kept having to spend time with such an offensive man. “I’ve got others- this one was a gift though so…”

Mom followed him, helping herself to a seat at the small table. “You’re a sentimental man?”

“I am.” He laughed as he pulled a chair out for me before sitting down himself. “I can’t help it.”

“Were they all gifts?”

“Mom!” I couldn’t believe her.

I mean, she always had a desire to see her daughters marry up in the world. She herself had worked two jobs to raise us for over half of our childhood before she fell in love with and married a wealthy businessman. They were in love, sickeningly so, but still sometimes she had a bit of a materialistic view. She couldn’t help it and I never held it against her.

“No.” He laughed but his shoulders looked a little stiff. “Some I purchased myself over the years.”

“You manage well, being a small business owner?”

“Well enough.” He laced his fingers through mine. “I manage the security servers for Stark industries on the side.”

“Oh, I see- so you work two jobs.” It wasn’t judgment in her voice but something else. Maybe a shadow of disappointment?

“Hardly. It’s mostly automated but I’m on hand if something flags when Tony’s out of the building. It pays well enough. It gave me the free time and finances to open the cafe and pay my staff a living wage from the beginning.”

“Still, I’m sure it’s exhausting, being on call. I know, Lexie says you pay everyone really well for the job- maybe if you paid them more what the market-”

“I only work for Tony now because he’s a friend. He trusts me. I work for him because it’s a habit. It's easier for everyone if I keep doing it. I don’t need the money- the cafe makes enough to sustain itself, the employees wages and myself as is.” It looked like he was bragging but it also felt a bit like he was a bit defensive. From the moment he had met Matt, it seemed like every time I turned around someone was questioning Clint’s finances. People kept insinuating that he didn’t have money or that if he did, I was with him for it.

It was frustrating me. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair and honestly, he didn’t sign up for this in agreeing to be my fake boyfriend.

~~~~~<3

“So,” Clint drew the word out as soon as the door shut behind mom.

“I am so sorry. I- You didn’t-” Why was this so fucking complicated?

He waved his hand at me. “No, don’t- that’s whatever. Just- I never thought to ask how serious we are.”

“What?”

“I mean- how serious do they think we are?”

“Casual-ish.” I answered, we were expected to meet everyone on the beach shortly and I still tried to avoid talking about the things I told my family about Clint before. It was weird and he thought it had nothing to do with him. All that he shared with my imaginary boyfriend before the invitation hit his hand was a name,

Except that wasn’t true at all and I knew it. That made it all the worse.

“Mother dearest seems to hope for more.”

“Mother dearest needs to mind her own business,”

~~~~~<3

The rehearsal was boring. Mind numbingly boring. Mom told me again and again that it was a great honor to get to spend the day with the wedding party as they practiced walking down the aisle. It's walking. Don't trip. Wouldn't it be better to practice in the dress? Walking in a sundress and walking in a 20 pound gown are two different things. Even now, I'm not sure I buy it. But it was better to shut up, show up and smile.

I watched Matt spend far longer than needed debating how he should stand at the alter. He kept asking if the light was hitting his ‘good side’ while he twisted and turned. The more time we spent with him, the more I was starting to think he didn’t have a ‘good side’.

What Sarah saw in him was beyond me.

Still, we sat and watched as bridesmaids made their way up and down the aisle. The little flower girl pretended to toss flowers here and there again and again. The groom’s mother kept having people redo things, changing how they walked, moved and stood to fit some perfect vision in her head.

Yeah, I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to like the whole family.

This went on for hours. When I dozed off, the look Matt’s father gave me could have killed weaker person. Clint took to squeezing my hand whenever I dozed, thankfully keeping me from being murdered by the Matthews family.

Finally it was over. It felt like we had been sitting here forever. It really didn’t make me look forward to the actual wedding tomorrow, that’s for sure. Standing made my knees and back pop in a way that would have been more fitting for Clint. It wasn’t fair that his joints weren’t putting on a show. I was the young one, damnit.

Mom made some speech but I honestly hadn’t been listening. Matt’s mother said some words that I also didn’t listen to and finally, we were free. At least I assume so, Clint pulled me toward the doors. Others worked their way outside and into their cars. The rehearsal dinner was to be held at the only Italian restaurant on the island. The whole party room was rented out and perfectly set up for us when we arrived. Sarah wrapped me in a warm hug before taking her seat at the what was set up as the head of a large round table.

Dinner went well enough and one glass of wine turned into two. Before I knew it, I needed a third to get through the boring dinner conversation and the food had only just arrived. Clint wasn’t far behind me in that regard.

It was hard not to get caught up in my mind. Every time Matt moved, the light would reflect off some glitter still clinging to his scalp. Did Sarah know what had actually gone down a few nights ago? How much glitter did he have on him for there to still be some now? How could she stay with him if she did? How could he do that to her?

“So, Clint-” Mom started, leaning far too close. She’d had a few glasses of wine herself as she nibbled at her salad. “Aren’t you worried about eventually supporting a family on a small business income?”

“A family?” I choked at the words, my lasagna lodging itself in my throat as Clint leaned back, glass if whiskey in his hand.

“I’ve made a point to live humbly but I’m not worried.” He answered shortly. I knew he was getting tired of this constant questioning of his means.

“Oh- It’s very good to live within your means.” My step-father, Kurt agreed from where he sat next to Mom. He was always standoffish with us and honestly, I was surprised to see him join the conversation.

“I can assure you, I live well below my means.” There was a sharpness in his voice that I couldn’t place. Yet his face looked relaxed when I looked toward him.

Kurt laughed, waving his fork. There was a lack of animosity in Kurt’s side of the conversation, something completely different than when everyone else interacted with Clint and I.

“That’s good to hear.” Kurt took a sip of his wine before continuing. “I’ve seen more than a few well established men end up bankrupt due to poor money handling and the fickle nature of markets.”

“So then, how much do you make?” Clint’s quickly relaxing posture tensed once again when Matt’s mother jumped into the conversation.

“I really would rather not-”

“I can’t imagine a cafe makes much take home profits.” Matt’s father joined in. Mom was paying far too much attention to the current line of conversation.

“If you must know- and I suspect you think you must- I take home six figures. I am more than comfortable.” Kurt’s eyebrow raised and there was a hint of a smile there as Clint seemed to struggle to resist the urge to jump down someone’s throat.

“My Matt,” Mrs. Matthews patted her son’s shoulder. “He’s going to be putting Sarah through school. She’s going back for her Master’s and my Mattie is going to put her through. She’s such an amazing addition to the family. She’ll be great in business.”

“Karen!” Sarah scolded, leaning forward to playfully glare at her soon to be Mother-in-law. “I hadn’t told anyone yet!”

“And Matt is going to support you through this?” Mom asked, leaning again into the conversation.

“Yeah, Mom,” Sarah laced her fingers with Matt’s and looked at him with pure adoration that made me want to vomit. She had to not know about last night. There was no way in hell she knew. “We were originally planning on waiting to tell anyone until after the wedding but… I’ll be quitting Barsols and going back in the fall full time.”

Part of me wanted to roll my eyes. Of course, her announcement was met with approval. Sure, the soon to be married sister can quit her job and go back to school and it’s great. If I put myself through school in the city it’s ‘not a good choice’ and a ‘waste of resources’.

Yeah, okay. You could say I’m a little bitter. Or even more than a little bitter. For a while, I ate and finished my glass of wine while ignoring the rest of the group as best I could. It was better I kept my mouth shut so I didn’t say something I would regret.

“So,” Mom started, eyeing me as a slice of cake was set in front of each of us. “If Alexis were to wish to quit her job, what would you think?”

“Me?” Clint asked, forkful of cake halfway to his mouth. “It would suck- she’s my best barista.”

It was an honest answer and I couldn’t fault him for it, he had a few glasses to drink and was starting to feel it. At least, I thought he was starting to feel it. His cheeks were pink tinged and he smiled easy and moaned deeply when he captured the bite of cake. It was a sinful sound and I hated him for it.

“But she’d still be in school. She’d have expenses.” Mom was fishing and I was going to kill her for it.

“That would be her problem. And if she decided to quit the cafe, I’d like to assume she had a plan in place to cover those expenses.” He seemed more interested in the cake than the conversation. I had to agree, the cake was far better.

“But if she didn’t?”

“Mom.” Sarah scolded.

“You want to hear that I’d cover everything for her? All her expenses? Pay any tuition she needed paid? Be her knight in shining armor?” Clint was clearly getting short with her. “I wouldn’t.”

“Why not?” Matt asked. “Isn’t she worth it? Sarah is wroth it to me.” Yeah, well you’re getting married buddy. Clint’s just my fake boyfriend.

“She is. I care for her deeply. I also respect her and she respects me. I’d expect that she wouldn’t put me in that position without discussing it with me before making the choice. And I don’t see any reason why she would quit that would leave her well being as my responsibility.”

“So you’d just let her starve?” Matt’s mother was outraged.

“I didn’t say that. I will not allow any of those who have worked for me starve while they are doing everything they can to help themselves. Regardless of our relationship, I wouldn’t let her starve as long as she was working to help herself as well.”

The conversation died as it became clear Clint’s mood was turning foul. There wasn’t anything I could think to do or say that would make this better. All I could do was pray that we’d make it through the Wedding and get back to New York without Clint hating me.

“Barton.” Kurtis stood and looked expectantly at Clint. “Walk with me, won’t you?”

“Sure thing.” I wished there was a way to tell him how sorry I was as he got up. I was honestly surprised when he leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. “I’ll be back in a bit, Babe. Don’t miss me too much.”

“Maybe we should go for a walk too?” Sarah asked as Clint disappeared through the doors.

“What?” Why now?

“I just- I feel like we haven’t really gotten to catch up since you got here.

I followed Sarah out the other set of doors. Our heels sank into the sand but she didn’t seem to mind. It was quite outside. Waves rolled across the sand in the distance. Tomorrow, she would be getting married on a stretch of beach like this.

“About Matt.” I couldn’t take the silence any longer.

“I know you don’t like him. And I get why- he and Clint seem to get along like oil and water.”

“I- did you see the glitter? Stripper dust? Do you really believe they just had a peaceful night in and played games last night?” I couldn’t take it anymore.

“The glitter?”

“In his hair.” I picked at my nails. “There were strippers there. He hooked up with one.”

“And you know this from glitter?” Sarah’s voice was cold but it wasn’t ice directed at the man who she was to marry. It was directed at me. I opened my mouth, intending to tell her that Clint had pictures but she cut me off. “Look, if you don’t trust Clint, that’s your deal. He’s older so I get it. But he seems head over heels for you, so figure it out. Maybe if you were more affectionate with him you wouldn’t feel like he’s cheating on you.”

“I never said he was-”

“No, you said there were probably strippers at the tame party because of glitter. And if you must know- Matt had glitter with him because I asked him to pick some up. He has glitter in his hair because we are children and ended up in a glitter war last night when he came home.”

“No Sarah-”

“Listen.” She turned to face me, grabbing my arms and giving me a firm shake to keep my attention. “If you love Clint, give him some affection. Mom’s not going to freak and Kurt will live. Kiss the man. Touch him. Stop pretending you’re at work or something and that the world will implode if someone sees you.”

“What?”

“You hardly seem like you’re together. Just- if you want to keep a man like that you’ve got to stop playing these games.”

“I’m not-”

“Just stop hiding, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good girl. I love you Lexie. Clint and Kurt are coming. I’ll take Kurt and free Clint from mom’s grilling.”

“Thank you.” Sarah was a few feet away before I called for her. When she turned and looked at me, I forced a smile. If I can’t make her see, I could pray it was a one time event. “You’re getting married tomorrow!”

“I’m getting married tomorrow!” She squealed before running off, snagging Kurt and wishing Clint a good night in the process.


	9. Chapter 9

We walked through the sand, making our way slowly toward the hotel. Clint laced his fingers loosely with mine and if I'm honest, it felt good. It felt like something I wanted to get used to. It felt right.

But it was all pretend.

“Your stepdad is a pretty smart guy.” Clint broke the silence.

“Yeah. Started off in an average family, worked his way through law school and made his life what it is now.”

“So, did he raise you and Sarah?” Clint asked. It was odd, though we had talked about family before, it was more to make sure he could pass as a boyfriend. This felt somehow... different.

“Not really.” I shrug. “Mom met him when we were older. It was hard, going from being the three of us on our own and fighting to survive to having him around.”

“Fighting to survive?”

“When dad died, there wasn’t any life insurance or anything. No savings and mom was a stay at home wife. We were bad off, sharing a one bedroom apartment and shit. Before Kurt it was always a struggle.” I could feel the weight of Clint’s eyes on me as I chewed my lip. I’d never told him about what it was like growing up. It wasn’t something I liked to talk about but it felt safe with him.

“I see.”

“I know mom comes off materialistic and in a lot of ways she is. But don’t lump her in with Matt’s family.”

“Mary came from a place where there wasn’t enough money.” Clint squeezed my hand, not finishing his thoughts until I looked at him. The moonlight danced on the water behind him. “I can’t fault her for wanting to always be sure her girls won’t go back to that place. Matt’s family however- they reek of old money.”

“How can you tell?”

“Spend enough time at Stark’s parties and you get a sense for it. Also, the strippers were high class and high dollar- you don’t spend that kind of money unless you don’t know money’s worth.”

“What?” I laughed, pretending like talking about Clint watching strippers didn’t twist the knife that had no business being in my chest. “You don’t think they were worth the money? Did they trip or something? Couldn’t dance?”

He laughed, “No, no tripping. They danced amazingly but honestly, the thing is though- there’s no reason to pay that much. When a bunch of drunk young men get together for a party like that... their blood flows from their brain and the expensive dancers may as well be low cost dancers from a local joint.”

“Oh.” He looked at me but didn’t say anything. We were close to the hotel now. I could see Sarah and Matt standing on the porch off their rental cabin not too far ahead. They were talking and well, it didn’t look like it was the world’s most pleasant conversation. It also didn’t look like it was bad enough that the wedding was off, much to my dismay.

“What’s rattling in there?”

“Just something Sarah said.”

“Did you tell her about the party? I mean- he had glitter still on him for fucks sake.”

“I tried but she turned it back on me.”

“Even though I’ve got pictures?”

“I didn’t get that far before she started jumping down my throat.”

“Over what?” Clint brought my knuckles to his lips as we walked. Sarah and Matt weren’t paying us much mind but he was thorough in his acting.

“Saying… things.” I sighed and rolled my eyes when he looked at me expectantly. “Ugh, fine. She accused me of saying things about Matt because of my own insecurity.”

“Over what?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“She said… She said I wouldn’t be projecting things onto her and Matt if I was more affectionate… with you.” I chewed my lip, not wanting to look up at him.

“I guess I can see her point. I tend to be the one more touchy with you than you are with me. I assumed that’s how you normally would be, in a relationship- I mean.”

“I guess… I guess I am holding back a bit.” I didn’t want to admit she was right but how could I not hold back?

“You don’t have to, you know? I’m a big boy, I can take some attention.” He stopped for a moment, smile falling from his face. “Unless you’re worried about work- I promise, I can keep this separate from the cafe.”

“I know. I believe you.” And I did. That was half the problem. I totally believed that he could and would keep it separate from the cafe and I would be dying inside all alone. “It’s not you, I just- I guess I’m just shy.”

“They’re watching us.” Clint tilted his head a bit toward where Sarah and Matt stood, still talking. Mom had joined them out on the deck at some point

“And?”

“And let’s dance.” Clint pulled me in front of him and captured me in a slight embrace. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“There’s no music.” I wondered if they could hear us on the deck.

“Doesn’t matter. Just let me lead.” And so, I did.

It was beyond romantic as we danced slowly to the sound of the waves. The sand worked its way into my shoes but I found it hard to care though I would later, when it was time to try and clean them out. After a bit, the moon and stars were the only audience I was aware of. And before long, those too fell away.

All that remained was Clint’s crystal blue eyes and warm smile, lit only by the soft light of the moon reflecting off the sand and water. There was almost a chill in the air, carried in by the ocean breeze. All it did was make me more aware of the warmth of Clint’s hands and the way as he pulled me closer, I could feel the warmth of his body.

Real or not, pretend or not didn’t matter in that moment. Those thoughts too fell away as we danced. He smiled at me, though I couldn’t begin to say why. It was too dark and they were too far away for them to see us.

He spun me around with all the confidence of a man on a shinny dance floor. As we moved through the sand, I worked hard to remind myself that this was reality. I wasn’t living some romantic comedy. I was living my life and when this stupid trip was over, we would go back to life as it was. Or he would and I would try to.

The thought alone was enough to pull me the rest of the way back to reality. It took only glance over his shoulder as we spun in the sand to see the deck door close behind those who had been watching us. Another spin and I watched as the light flicked off.

“They’re not watching anymore.” I whispered the words, though I’m not sure exactly why.

“So?” He pulled me closer somehow. Our footsteps left trails in the sand and while I could only sneak glances at them, they were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

“We don’t have to keep dancing.”

He spun me out before pulling me back to him. I went willingly. The touch of his hands, the way he guided me to the music of the ocean was addicting. Stopping was the last thing I wanted. The moon reflected off his eyes and I shouldn’t have been able to tell how blue they were in the dark but somehow, I swear I could.

“But we can, can’t we?” He whispered as he drew closer.

Fuck it. Fuck sanity. He’s my boss but right now, he’s my boyfriend. Pretend or not, he’s mine. This was as close to real as it was going to be so what’s so wrong with indulging?

I don’t know what I was thinking. Or maybe I wasn’t thinking at all. It doesn’t matter anyway, what’s done is done. And the moment I pressed my lips to his, it was done.

There were no witnesses but he responded just the same. As his hand found itself tangled in my hair, I melted into him. Even as our lips were locked together, Clint guided us through the sand.

Turns out, I’m not so good at following his lead while trying to somehow pull myself closer to him. His arms were wrapped around me and god, everything about him was solid and firm. Fingers tangled in my hair, pulling lightly. A strong palm ran down my back, pushing me against him even harder. Fingers dug into the flesh of my ass and in the process pushed my pelvis firmly against his.

A groan slipped out of his lips as he pulled back. Opening his eyes, he looked down at me and it looked like his life flashed before his eyes. I wasn’t ready to face reality yet. I wasn’t ready to give up and go back to pretending. I wanted more. I needed more.

“I am so-” Clint said but I wrapped my arm around his neck and pulled him into another heated kiss.

What Clint Barton was, I didn’t give him a chance to tell me. He groaned when his lips crashed into mine again. Hands roamed my back and sides, leaving an intoxicating trail of fire in their wake. Somehow still he had us swaying, turning to the music of the ocean but I wasn’t paying any attention to that.

My foot caught on his and that was all it took to topple us. He fell back but over corrected, sending me down backward. For what it’s worth, Clint did try to catch me. I reached out for him too but it only pulled him down with me.

I landed in a heap. He was able to catch himself on his hands so at least I wasn’t completely crushed. He looked down at me, moon shining bright over his shoulder while I looked up at him. The sand made for a soft landing at least.

“Are you okay?” He made no move to get up, to put any distance between us though I wondered if the spell had broken.

“Yeah.” I whispered.

My hands went to his chest. I don’t know what I was thinking, planning. Maybe to push him back? His heart was pounding under my fingertips. I didn’t push hard enough to even make solid contact with him. Instead, my palm grazed up his chest and over his shoulders. Before I knew it, my arms were once again wrapped around him, pulling him to me.

He closed the last inch between us. The sand was cool under me, a perfect balance to the heat that radiated down from him. Hands were everywhere. Lips nipped, kissed and sucked at tender flesh.

My hand ended up slipped under his shirt and finally I got to take in the feeling of his hot skin under my fingers. Everything was hard and soft at the same time. I couldn’t help but moan as his hand settled on my knee only to dance his fingertips up my leg, slipping under the hem of my dress.

I tired to feel everything I could. Without giving myself a chance to think twice, I yanked at his shirt. I rushed buttons through holes, wanting nothing more than to feel more of him. I wanted his skin under my fingertips. I needed it.

As my fingers explored the smooth skin of his chest, abdomen and back, Clint’s lips never left me. He rocked his hips into mine and I could feel just how much he was enjoying this moment.

At the rate we were going, it was a matter of time before we found ourselves naked and rolling in the sand. Mother Nature had another idea. I’m not sure where the wave had came from, it was the largest we’d seen all night but it came crashing ashore. I mean, I know where it came from but I didn't see it coming. I was a bit distracted with other things, after all.

As the water pulled back from us, whatever spell we had been under was finally broken. It was like we were pushed apart, gasping and sputtering salty water. It was cold and there was sand everywhere, clinging to clothes and hair.

“We should get back to the hotel.” Clint sat, shirt soaked and gaping open. It was a beautiful sight.

“Yeah.” I said. What I wanted to say was that I never wanted to go back to that hotel. I wanted to say that I didn’t want to leave this beach until he was mine and I was his, that I didn’t want to pretend anymore.

While I was thinking of everything I would rather say, Clint stood up and patted the wet sand from his pants before offering me a hand. I couldn’t begin to explain what had come over him to make him respond to a kiss like that, to make him touch me like that.

But it didn’t matter right now. Or at least that’s what I told myself. I didn’t take his offered hand as I found my feet again. I offered him a smile as we started walking. It took everything I had to resist the urge to take his hand in mine. Instead I busied my fingers picking at the skin around my nails. The hotel quickly came into sight.

“I’m sorry.” Clint finally said as we crossed the threshold into the too bright lobby. “I overstepped. Maybe I misread.” He hesitated. “I should have stopped to check in with you. I-”

“It’s fine.” I lied. It wasn’t fine. It was everything but fine because he was saying everything I feared he would say. Silence stretched on. My heart felt like it was shattering as we quickly slipped into the room. “I’m going to take a quick shower, wash the sand out of my hair.”

“Okay.” Clint sounded as defeated as I felt. I couldn’t begin to make sense of why.

As I washed, I let the water rinse away the dirt and sand. It gathered on the floor of the shower and flowed down the drain. I wish it would take my feelings for him with it. When that didn’t work, I settled for letting tears slip down my face and down the drain.

Tomorrow was the wedding. Just a little bit longer.

~~~~~<3

There was a heavy something between us all morning. Neither of us spoke about the kiss that was almost so much more than just a kiss. There was a point, the night before when I was leaving the bathroom and Clint was going in for a shower where I was pinned between the wall and him. His breath was warm on me and his eyes threatened to pull me in.

But I had stood rooted in place, holding my breath. I wanted to lean forward and kiss him again. I wanted him to lean down and kiss me again. Instead, we stood frozen in time for a few heartbeats before that moment passed and he slipped into the bathroom. The door shut behind him and that was the end of that.

I spent most of the morning getting ready for the wedding. We had to be there at two for photos and Sarah wouldn’t be happy if I was even a second late or had a hair out of place.

After a silent breakfast I rushed out the door with a squeaked ‘bye’ to Clint. Was I a coward? Yeah, yeah I was. But what could I do? All morning, Clint would reach out for me and come so damn close to doing those little touches that he always seemed to do. Only now, he pulled back before his fingers made contact.

It was maddening. So often, I had wished he would stop with those little touches. I wished he would stop flirting so much. I wished he would stop pretending when we were alone. And now that he did it felt like he twisted a knife in my heart.

By noon I was on the way back to the hotel. I was dragging my feet for every step I took. Once I crossed that door, I didn’t know what I would face. Would Clint be back to normal? Would he still be cold? Would it stop hurting?

I should have never kissed him.

I should have kissed him again.

With a deep breath I slipped the key in the door and turned the handle. For better or worse it was time to put on a dress and watch Sarah say her vows.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Next week there will not be a Coffee update. I am traveling to NYC to see Betrayal and flying Redeye- landing on the 3rd.

“Welcome back.” Clint called from where he sat at the small dining table, his own laptop lighting up his face.

Just ‘welcome back’. That was it. No ‘babe’. No pet names. That hurt way more than I expected. He didn’t even look up at me. It hurt more than it should have. I could feel my eyes well up and willed the tears away. This makeup job was expensive. The artist assured me that the layers would hold up through anything. Rain, sweat, tears and even a dip in the ocean. I still didn't feel like testing it until after the pictures over and done with.

It was fine. This is what I wanted. This is how it should have always been. I sniffled. It was a loud and ugly sound, louder than I had expected. Flinching, I regretted it instantly. Way to draw attention to yourself.

His eyes flicked up to me and there was a moment where I could see his face shift through a range of emotions. There was confusion first. After was this weird slack jawed look that was quickly replaced by shock as he stood up too fast, sending the chair falling behind him.

“Holy shit.” I rolled my eyes at his words. Yeah, of course it would shock him that I’m tearing up over nothing. There were countless times I’d taken a verbal beating from an unhappy customer before he’d step in and throw them out without so much as a tear in my eye.

“We’ve gotta go in like an hour or so.” I hated how watery my voice sounded.

“Yeah.” Clint said. “Sorry- I was tits deep in taxes. I’ll get changed right away.” He stood rooted in place though.

“Taxes?” I was thankful for the somewhat random distraction. “It’s not the end of the year yet.”

“Do them quarterly- makes it hurt less- Can I just say you look fucking amazing, babe?”

“What?” I didn’t mean to say it but I’m pretty sure I said it.

“I mean- Holy. Shit. Your hair!” He hurried across the room toward me. “Turn, turn- let me see their work.”

“Okay?” I turned and my mind swam. What the hell was happening? Had he been off all morning because of taxes? What did he think of me then? Were we back to how we were before? “It looks okay? It’s hard to see when they hold that little mirror up...”

“Yeah, babe. Let me- Here, I’ll get a picture of it.” Clint was talking a mile a minute. That was probably a good thing since I was still reeling from the change in him. “I hope Matt’s throwing some big dollars at Sarah’s hair because they went top notch on you.”

Clint slipped his phone in front of me after taking a picture. Sure, the lighting wasn’t great and the focus was a little off but that did nothing to hide the way the strands were pulled back in a comfortable braid. Gems dotted the mass of braided waves.

“Your dress is in the closet- I’ll grab it for you and put it in the bathroom while you grab the other… stuff? You need to change. I’ll change out here.”

~~~~~<3

“Clint?” I called through the door. When I tried on the dress there was a shop associate to help me into it. I didn’t think about trying to reach the zipper or laces on my own. And now I’ve been trying to get it on for the last thirty minutes. We were running out of time.

“Yeah?”

“I need help.”

That’s how I ended up standing with my back to Clint, arms crossed over my chest and holding the dress up and over my otherwise bare chest. I tried to ignore the fact that I was wearing a lace pair of panties that were probably clearly visible above where the zipper started.

Clint thankfully made no comment about my panties or lack of a bra. While the air around us was so much more like what it had been, I could still feel an underlying current of something hanging around us. It was like the river thawed but the ice was still there on the surface. His fingers were cold as he curled them around the tab of the zipper.

With a tug at the base of the zipper’s path and in one smooth motion he was able to pull it up the small of my back. As it moved higher he had to stop, pulling the fabric together with one hand and inching the zipper up the rest of the way. Once the zipper was taken care of, he set to work lacing up the back.

“Time to go.” I said, looking at my phone before slipping it in the clutch style purse.

~~~~~<3

Clint was sitting on a folding chair with a water bottle in hand. Matt had offered him a beer but he had turned it down. Matt’s father also offered him a beer and likewise, he turned it down. I guess drinking before two in the afternoon wasn’t really Clint's thing?

I posed with Sarah for pictures while she was in her robe. The photographer was sweet and kind though their flash was blinding. Every time I caught sight of Clint he looked right at home, lounging in a folding chair or wherever he could find to sit as we were ushered through the spaces.

Finally, we were sent out for the real prep to get underway. We made our way to the beach where somehow we were roped into set up. While we placed chairs and carpets settled into place, Clint resumed the soft touches I had grown so used to since the charade started. It made it even harder to focus on the task at hand- one we never agreed to in the first place- without ruining my dress. Also not helping was the suit Clint wore, tailored and hugging his form, necktie and shit matching the blues of my dress.

By a quarter after three, guests started to arrive. Sarah had said it was going to be a fairly small gathering but as we had been setting out chair after chair earlier, I realized that wasn’t going to be the case. Still, setting out three million chairs did nothing to prepare me for the influx of what seemed to be three million people.

“Our job's done for now. Let’s get a seat before all the good ones are gone.” Clint whispered.

He leaned down and planted a sweet kiss to the top of my head as he wrapped an arm around my side. Leaning into him, I let him lead me to one of the front rows as we settled into the seats. Around us, people I recognized from my teen years mingled with people I recognized from high roller magazines. Sometimes, men wearing expensive suits would come up to Clint and I, recognizing him from some Stark party or another.

Every single time he introduced me as his girlfriend, my heart jumped into my throat. I saw the looks some of them gave us. Some thought I was too young for him. Some thought I was with him for his money. Some thought the only thing I could offer him was sex. The whispers were just loud enough for me to hear. Or maybe that was my own paranoia and self doubt.

Regardless, it was time for everyone to take their seats and for Sarah to say her ‘I do’s. I wished that I could have shown her the pictures Clint had taken before now. I wished I could have gotten her to listen to me. I wished none of this was happening.

It was bitter sweet when the music started and the whole crowd stood to take a look at Sarah as she walked down the path. There was a light blue satin fabric that covered the smoothed sand. Each step left what looked a lot like waves behind her, smoothed out somewhat by the weight of her dress and the short train as she walked.

And she did make a beautiful bride. While the dress she wore was delicate and light and her hair had a perfect wave to it. The sun was reflecting off glittery gems placed in her hair. The same gems were placed in the bundle of flowers in her hand. None of it was as beautiful as the smile on her face.

And it all made my stomach turn. Clint squeezed my hand as the couple at the alter smiled lovingly at each other. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to vomit.

“Breath.” Clint whispered in my ear. I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath. A tear slipped out of my eye and I harshly wiped it away.

“You can object.” He pointed out as I let out a shaking breath.

“No.” I whispered back. “She didn’t believe me, she won’t now.”

“I’m sorry, babe.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his side as a few more tears slipped down my cheeks.

I sought comfort in Clint’s embrace as Matt and Sarah said their vows, then their ‘I Do’s and the crowd cheered. We stood and clapped and I did my best to pretend to be happy for them. With a deep breath, I prepared myself for a few more photos before it was time for the reception.

~~~~~<3

With Clint at my side, we made a direct path to the bar the moment we had gotten inside the doors. The music was soft and classy for now and there were trays of cocktails set out on tables and on the corners of the bar. Waiters walked with trays full of drinks.

I didn’t take my time with the first drink. Pictures had been a nightmare. I plastered on a wide smile and tried to look happy in the family pictures. I did my best but I’m not sure I ever could have really looked happy.

The dinner was nice and expensive. The toasts sweet and I about cried with joy once it was time to dance. At least then I could pretend Sarah hadn’t just tied her life to a man I had grown to hate over the last few days. I wasn’t one that really threw the word ‘hate’ around carelessly. But I did hate him. God, I hated him so much.

Still, when it was time to gather around and try to catch the bouquet, I gathered with the rest. Clint smiled on and cheered and I rolled my eyes at him. Women pushed and pulled on each other as Sarah took her far too pretty bouquet and turned her back on us.

“One,” She said. “Two, three!” And the flowers sailed through the air.

I was pushed and pulled until I was off to the side of the group. It happened so fast and I hadn’t really cared about catching the overpriced flowers. The bounced once, then twice on grabbing hands only to fall neatly in my half assed reach.

What the ever loving fuck?

There was a showering of congratulations. People who were jealous of me put on bright smiles and made teasing jokes. Everyone kept asking when Clint and I would be planning our wedding. Matt’s father clapped Clint on the shoulder and asked when he would be proposing.

We spent much of the night dancing and drinking. The cake was amazing and the party was amazing. I had almost put the thoughts of the horrible match out of my mind for most of the night. There was a live band and as the sun set, twinkling reflected off glassware and gems decorating the area. In the distance, the moon and stars quickly joined the party, making for the most romantic setting I’d ever seen.

The party went on and I was wrapped up in being with Clint. I indulged in affection, both giving and receiving. It was selfish but I excused it. I couldn’t have anyone else questioning if I was holding back. And I didn’t want to hold back. It was a wedding, love was all around us.

And I was in love with him. I think I was always aware of it, in a sense. But now I felt it in an earth shattering way. Yet it was a soft feeling. A warm feeling. I don’t think I could ever go back to before. Could I survive without the way he ran his hand along the small of my back and he walked by? Could I survive without hearing him call be ‘babe’ anymore?

Before my mind could wade through the buzz of the alcohol to dwell on that, I noticed a gaggle of suits gathered in a circle. Matt was standing among them and they were sharing laughs.

“Most of them were at the party.” Clint offered as he spun me around only to pull me back into his arms. I didn’t think anything of it when Sarah made her way to them.

“What’s this?” Her voice rang out loud enough for us to hear over the music. If we were father from the group, it would have been impossible to hear it at all though. We danced a little closer. “Who are they? When was-”

The rest of what she said was lost to me. At another table some bridesmaids downed shots to the cheering applause of spectators. I watched as Sarah broke from the group, clearly upset and made her way over to us. What happened? What did she see?

“Lexie” She wrapped her arms around me, pulling me from Clint's arms. Behind her, a distressed Matt approached. “I’m sorry. I saw the pictures. I’m so sorry I doubted you.”

“What are you sorry for?” Matt demanded, downing his glass of whiskey and setting it on a nearby table.

“She tried to tell me, Matt. And I didn’t listen to her.” Sarah’s voice was getting louder. People around us were beginning to stop dancing. “I told her to stop imagining things.”

“I can explain, Sarah.” Matt pleaded, reaching out for the bride who only stepped away. “Sarah, calm down. You’re causing a scene. Let me explain.”

Sarah held her arms out and span around in a slow circle, swaying a bit on her feet. She was clearly drunk at least. “Then explain it to us.”

“Clint.” Matt said.

“Me?”

“Clint?” Sarah asked.

“Yeah.” Matt nodded, gaining traction. Clint grabbed a drink off a tray as the attendant passed and took a long drink as Matt opened his mouth to start again. “We had the games set, the drinks, Mozart on the sound system. Real classy.” Clint snorted into his drink, earning himself a jab from my elbow. “Clint called the strippers. Called it ‘a gift’ and that my planned party wasn’t the way ‘real men’ do it.”

“He what?” Sarah gasped and I think I pulled a muscle rolling my eyes.

“How can you believe that?” I challenged.

“I don’t know Clint.” Sarah retorted. “I know Matt.”

“Do you?” Clint asked.

“I know him better than I know you.” Sarah jabbed her finger into Clint’s chest before turning on me. “If you wouldn’t have kept him hidden, maybe I would know him.”

“I didn’t keep him hidden.” I fumbled.

“Oh?” Matt said. “So what, Clint didn’t want you to tell anyone about him? Was he that against being tied to you?”

“Excuse me?” Clint’s voice was getting that hard edge to it, the one I only rarely heard.

“I bet he doesn’t even take you on dates.” Matt said.

“He does.” I was freaking out. This wasn’t something we talked about. I didn’t have a plan for this. We didn’t have a story for this.

“Where?” Matt asked. “When last?”

“You always said you didn’t have time to breath, let alone date.” Sarah offered.

“So what, you date in?” Matt asked.

“What’s wrong with staying in?” I asked. This was getting out of control.

“Stay at home dates are just a cover for sex.” Matt answered. “He’s just after you for sex. All he cares about is sex. So he hired what he called ‘strippers’. I’m pretty sure they were just hookers.”

“Clint’s a good man. He treats me right.”

“So what? You’re after him for his money? Lord knows he keeps saying he has it. Is he giving you all his money? Is that why he has an old watch?”

“Matt- She’s my sister.” Sarah was faltering. I couldn’t imagine what she saw in him but at least she wasn’t against me. Not totally.

“Enough.” Clint said. His voice was low and firm.

“You brought strippers- Hookers- to my- to Matt’s party and want to say what’s enough?”

“Even if I did hire the strippers- and I did not, I did not make Matt try to swallow one’s face. I didn’t make Matt touch them. I didn’t make Matt struggle to carry one to the broom closet where I’m sure they had sex.”

“How dare you- I did not have sex with one of them!” Matt’s face was red.

“But you kissed one?” Sarah challenged, turning on her husband as Clint down the rest of his drink and set it on a passing tray, switching it for a fresh one. “You did, I- that was one of the pictures.”

“But- I- I- I’m not the one who called them.” Sarah slapped him and marched away.

“Look, how am I the bad guy just because Alexis can’t fuck Clint well enough and he needs to watch stripper’s-”

It happened so fast. One second Matt was talking and the next, a crack echoed through the silent air and Matt was crashing to the ground. There were gasps and whispers. Sarah had stopped in her tracks and turned to look, eyes wide.

Reaching out, I wrapped my arms around Clint’s arm. I guess I thought I was going to try to hold him back. It didn’t matter though because he made no move to advance on the man on the ground.

“Stay down.” Clint’s voice was cold as ice and carried through the room as he looked around. His shoulders were squared and his head was held high. He rubbed his knuckles.

“Clint?” I whispered.

“I want to make something vary clear, to everyone in this room.” Clint’s voice carried through the room, projected and full of steel. “You can insult me all day. You can question my means and my finances. You can judge my watch for being a few years old. You can judge me for my age. You can judge me for my business. But I will not stand for anyone talking about the woman I love like that.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter warnings: Drunk sex, unprotected sex, fingering, slight age kink. 
> 
> As this is the smut chapter- per typical, I have formatted it in such a way that if you do not desire to read such material or are not mature enough to do so, the chapter can be skipped as a whole without missing MUCH plot. However, if you’re worried about missing plot- you can read up until the first ~~~~~<3 Line.

Chapter 11

My heart was in my throat and my head fuzzy with alcohol as Clint pulled me toward the exit. I didn’t know where we were going but if I'm honest, Clint could have taken me anywhere in that moment. I would have gone willingly, without question or thought.

We managed to make it out of the reception room before Clint turned on me. There was a look in his eyes that I had never seen before. A fire in them that threatened to burn me alive. I needed to apologize. I needed to-

Clint’s lips where on mine in an instant and my train of thought was gone. It took everything I had to focus enough to hold onto the glass clutched in my hand. His warm hand settled first on my arm then moved to my waist. He crowded me, shuffled closer and I did nothing to put any distance between us. My free hand wrapped around his neck, fingers indulging in the soft strands of hair at the nape of his neck.

I braced my glass against his arm as he walked me backward. The cool wall was a relief against my hot skin as he pressed into me. As suddenly as it began, he pulled away and put a few short inches between his chest and mine.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I got carried away.”

“I’m not.” I whispered and took a deep drink from my glass, draining half of it. Behind him, I could see a few people milling about. They probably left the reception hall for a breath of quiet and some fresh air. I knew the kiss had been a part of the act, it had to have been. But if he got carried away...

“Are you going to finish that?” He asked.

“Nope.”

Clint snagged the glass out of my hand and downed it in one smooth gulp before the word was even out of my mouth. The second he pulled the glass away from his lips, I replaced it with my own. I devoured the fruity taste of what had been my drink on his lips. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into him.

I was lost in the feeling of him. The smell of him surrounded me. My fingers bunched into the fabric of his suit only to uncurl again. They rubbed along his chest, slipping around his side and up his back.

“Wine?” He whispered as he pulled back again. His breaths came in pants, matching mine.

“What?”

“Wine. Would you like some? Room service?”

“We’re leaving the party to go back to the room and drink more?” I pushed his shoulder lightly while I laughed. I was feeling pretty good, all things considered. The drinks I already had were swimming through my system. They mixed with the adrenaline from watching Clint so nobly defending me. More wine would be a dangerous idea.

“Do you want to stay?” Clint asked, leaning down and placing a hot kiss on my neck, right below my ear. His hot breath washed over my neck and down my back.

“Nope. Order that wine. Let’s go.” It was now or never. This was our last night. It was my last chance. After tonight he would go back to being my boss. It was all or nothing. And I was going for it all.

~~~~~<3

My back was pushed up against the door as Clint’s lips explored my neck, nipping at the exposed skin and leaving embers behind. I couldn’t think. Every breath I took was full of him. When he managed to get the door open, we almost tumbled to the ground. Instead, he righted our path and we slammed against the entry hall. The pictures on the wall ratted as he kicked the door closed.

For a moment, we stopped. I eyed him, wondering if now that we were inside, reality would crash back to him. Would he remember I was his employee, so much younger than him and stop? Would I find it in me to give a shit that he was my boss?

“Fucking hell.” He whispered and I felt my stomach drop. This was it. This was that moment. My chance was gone.

“What?” My hands remained where they rested on his chest.

“You’re so beautiful tonight.” Slowly, he leaned down and kissed my shoulder. His fingers dug into my waist still as he left a trail of kisses toward my neck. “But it’s not surprising, you’re beautiful every night.”

Was it only the alcohol talking? I couldn’t question it as he began to nibble at the base of my neck. I couldn’t think and let’s be real, this was no time for thinking. If I thought, I would worry. And this was the one night I got with him. This was my only chance. This was the only time Clint would be too drunk to care about who I was. It was the only time I’d be too drunk to care about who he was too.

Was it right, what we were doing? What we were about to do? Was it moral? Would we regret it in the morning? Would one of us feel taken advantage of? Both of us?

Clint’s fingers wrapped around my thighs and he pulled me up and off my feet. I wrapped my legs around him as he held me up. One hand dug into my thigh and the other circled around, wrapping in my hair. He pulled my lips to his and kissed me with renewed fire.

I didn’t care about right or wrong anymore. I didn’t care about tomorrow. Instead I rocked against his body, longing for the feel of him moving against me. He held me as if it was nothing and that was far more of a turn on than I had expected.

We intended to drink wine but he set on on the dresser, pushing the ice bucket and bottle to the ground. The glasses shattered but I only absently registered the sound as Clint bunched the skirt of my dress up my legs. Higher and higher, the fabric gathered.

This was happening and I hadn’t wanted anything as much in my life. My fingers pushed at his blazer, sending it down his shoulders. Clint’s hands left me just long enough to shrug out of it and let it fall to the floor. My fingers found his shirt buttons and undid a few before I changed my mind and directed my attention to his belt.

I didn’t keep my attention there for long either. Clint’s lips worked at my neck and each time he pressed his hips into me I could feel how turned on he was. My hands sought out his hardness, caressing him through his trousers and drawing a sinful moan from his lips.

His fingers took me up on my unspoken challenge. Creeping up my thigh, he was soon rubbing over my lace covered core. A moment later, he slipped under the thin fabric and I whimpered into his shoulder.

“I want you.” I whimpered.

“You want me?” Clint mused. “You sure I’m not too old for you?” He teased but his voice was thick and rough, like gravel.

“I need you.”

My fingers worked his belt open as his hands pulled at the ribbon at the back of my dress. The silky fabric was easy for him to pull loose. Before I knew it, he was pulling the zipper of my dress down as I was unzipping his pants.

His cock sprang free as the weight of the belt pulled the pants down his thighs. I wrapped my fingers around him as his slipped inside me. I was shamefully wet but he didn’t seem to mind at all. He was hot in my hand, long and thick and everything I had ever dared to dream for.

“Are you sure?” He asked, fingers slowing against me, inside me.

“Yes. Please.” I begged. “I need you.”

“Need an old man like me?”

“Please.”

“Don’t worry, babe. I’ll take care of you.” He lined the head of his cock up with my entrance, holding my thong to the side. “I’ll take better care of you than any of those boys at your university ever could.”

He slipped inside with a smooth motion, filling me up as I clung moaning to him. “So good. So big.”

“I’m just getting started.” His words marked the end of the time for talk.

His lips found mine and our tongues twisted together as he rocked into me. Each thrust came faster, harder than the last. With each impact, my breasts bounced in his face and I couldn’t even find it in me to have the embarrassment I usually would. I’d never been fucked on a dresser and it turns out it was something I didn’t know I needed in my life.

I was on the edge of my orgasm when Clint pulled out of me. I whimpered at the empty feeling as he pulled me from the dresser and turned me around. He growled, “Bend over.” in my ear and I’m not sure where my mind went but I did exactly as he said, without question.

The top of my dress hung limply a few inches below my breasts and the skirts were bunched over my ass. I could see myself in the mirror with Clint behind me. As he reached up and pulled his tie off his neck, I couldn’t do anything but watch and wait for him to take me. I’d never wanted to be taken in such a way. It was barbaric and harsh. It was everything I didn’t know I wanted and it left me begging for more.

He grabbed my hips and pulled me back into him, sheathing his cock within me in the process. I gasped and he moaned low over my shoulder. The pace soon became harsh and quick as Clint rammed into me. Each thrust shoved me forward, into the dresser and if not for Clint’s arm circled around my waist, there would certainly be a nasty bruise by morning.

My eyes were everywhere. I could see the scratches, dents and scuffs on the dresser top. I could see the light reflecting off the mirror. I could see my hair, gems clinging to messed strands from Clint’s hands. The end of the braid hung over my shoulder and I could see the tie, hardly holding on to the very end of the tail.

Clint reached up with one hand, cupping my breast in his warm hand as he began to trust harder still. His fingers pinched and rolled my nipple as the hair tie gave up the fight and dropped onto the dresser. He pulled up by the hand on my chest and he hit deeper still.

He pinched and pulled at the sensitive nub of my nipple as I arched my back and rested my head on his shoulder. My eyelids were heavy and alcohol and pleasure both mixed to cloud my mind. I could see us in the mirror. Clint’s hair was messed from my hands. My breasts bounced and his hand slipped down my stomach and between my legs.

“How’s that?” His ragged breath was hot in my ear as his fingers slipped between my folds, glancing over my clit. The feel of it drew a high pitched whimper out of me. “You like that?”

“G-good.” It was hard to get the word out, my breath shuddered with every thrust.

“Just good?” He asked, finger picking up it’s pace. He held me to him with a hand to my breast, cupping it firmly as he rubbed soft circles over my clit. The pace of his thrusting never slowed. “I’m aiming for the best you ever had.”

“Oh god.” I was dancing on the edge. So close now. So very close.

“Show you what a man can do.” I’d never been one for dirty talk. I guess that wasn’t exactly true, I just had never encountered it in person before. Reading it in books, seeing it in porn- it always seemed so cheesy. Yet here I was, my own juices sloppy and covering my cunt.

“Fuck you better than any of those college boys ever could.” There was something in his voice. I couldn’t place it. It was almost a possessive edge to it. That made no sense but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that it was hot as fuck.

“Oh god.” I whimpered again. My back arched and I wrapped one arm around his neck. Finally I tore my eyes away from the sight of us in the mirror and buried my face in his neck as best I could. I clung to his arm, holding onto the wrist below my breast for dear life.

“I’ll ruin you.” And he was. He was ruining me so damn good and we’d only started. He couldn’t keep this up for much longer, could he? I mean, every other man I’d been with before couldn’t maintain a pace like this for more than a few minutes and it felt like he could go on forever.

“So close.”

“Come for me Babe. I want to feel you.” He urged me on with his gravel voice. I went willingly enough. “Look how beautiful you are.”

I came hard. There was nothing to do but hold on and moan as the world fell away around me. My fingers in his hair tightened into a fist, pulling the strands with them. My thighs shook and my body seized. He moaned, the sound came from deep and low in his chest and I could feel it in mine.

I thought that was it. I thought it was over. And I would have been satisfied with that. It had been some of the best sex of my life. If I’m honest, rarely did I ever get an orgasm out of sex. Hell, I rarely was this turned on during sex. But Clint was playing my body.

I sagged in his arms as he slowed to a stop. He shifted and found my lips with his. The kiss was long and deep. His tongue probed, twisted with mine. As we kissed, he pulled us slowly away from the dresser. I waited for his cock to soften and slip out of me but it remained firm.

My legs felt like jelly as I tried to walk. He pushed me harshly on the bed, cock finally slipping free. As I slipped my dress off, he toed off his shoes and turned off the lights. The bedside light was all that remained, casting a warm soft glow into the room as I shimmied my dress off. Clint shoved his pants off before climbing over me.

His cock stood proud still and it was so clear he wasn’t done. I wasn’t sure how I would survive more but at the same time, I craved it. His hand found my hip and pulled at my panties, working them down my legs as I made work of his shirt buttons. It took no time at all for us to be bare. The only thing on our bodies was each other. My hand wrapped around his hard cock.

“How are you still going?” I moaned as his fingers explored, slipping inside me.

“benefit of experience and age.” He set to work kissing my neck and I was a puddle under him. “I’ll make sure don’t want those boys ever again. I’ll show you what it feels like to be satisfied.”

Hands and mouths explored as he took me again. We went long into the night, sloppy and hot then slow and sweet. When he was finally finished with me, he slipped to my side and gathered me in his arms. I could feel his pounding heart as his fingers intertwined with mine. I was flush against his side, naked bodies pushed so tight together that it was hard to say where he ended and I had started.

He was right, I couldn’t imagine wanting anyone else ever again. He was right, I’d never been satisfied like that before. But he was wrong about something, as our alcohol muddled minds slipped slowly into sleep. No one would be able to live up to him not because of how skilled he was but because I loved him. I loved him and this night was all I was going to get. This was it.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are Loves, we've reached the end. I'd like to just take a moment to say Thank You to everyone. Thank You to the long time readers who have jumped with be between characters. Thank You to the new readers who I've watched discover my older works while waiting on updates. Thank You to the new readers whom I may never see again. 
> 
> This series has been a adventure and I want to thank everyone for going on it with me. It was a adventure in playing with a new writing style, playing with a new type of story. 
> 
> There is always something bitter sweet to me about a series ending and with the end of the year near, I find myself looking back at how far I've come. I've finished Silent Song this year. I started and finished Clover and Lace. I finished The Things You Find (In The Rain). And now, I've finished Coffee and a Wedding as well.

Chapter 12:

Morning came with a pounding headache and too bright sun. I couldn’t think and I wanted to drink the whole of the ocean, salt be damned. But that would mean moving and moving was something I didn’t want to do. Moving was going to hurt in so many different ways. I swear to God, I am never going to drink again. Not a drop. But that’s what everyone says when confronted with a hangover, right?

Speaking of hurting, everything ached. I fought to right my brain through the fog of the hangover and sleep. I was beyond comfortable, at least I had that much going for me. I was naked, I realized, and pressed against Clint. He was also naked.

His arms were draped around me. My head rested on his chest and shifted slightly with every deep breath he took. The room smelled of stale air and sex. I could feel the dried evidence of the night before on my thighs but my mind couldn’t wrap around what that meant at the moment. Though I knew it was something.

My leg was hooked over his, bent and riding up his thigh. I could feel him resting against it. My hand rested on his chest and even though I was still foggy at best, I couldn’t resist the urge to run my hand over the muscles. One of Clint’s hands rested low on my hip and the other wrapped around my rib cage. His thumb rested under the swell of my breast.

I didn’t want to move. I wanted to stay here forever and never face reality again. But that wasn’t an option. The game was coming to a close. Once we got on the plane today, it was all over. He would go back to only being my boss. I would go back to only being an employee. And I’d be okay with that, somehow. I had to be okay with that, somehow.

This shouldn’t have happened. I shouldn’t have let this happen. It was a mistake. I untangled myself from the sheets and Clint’s arms. He groaned and shifted, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“It’s not morning yet.” He whined. “Come back.”

“Need to shower.” I grumbled, “Go back to sleep.”

I looked passively around the room after slipping on Clint’s shirt. Something to cover myself was better than nothing. The bottle of wine was never even opened. The dress Clint had spent so much money on was in a crumpled heap on the floor along with his suit. His blazer was wet, having soaked up the ice from the bucket as it melted overnight.

After grabbing a change of clothes, I slipped into the bathroom. I’d not seen anything in the trashcan in the lobby and the trashcan in here was empty too. It dawned on me how stupid we were. That’s what I felt dried on my thighs.

Did we talk about it? I couldn’t remember but that didn’t mean we didn’t. It also didn’t mean that we did. Would it be rude to ask now? Was it too late? I mean, let’s be real- Clint’s too responsible to have anything?

I cranked the shower on and used the hot water to wash away as much of my worries as I could. I wasn’t worried about a pregnancy- I had gotten a IUD a few years prior but still. By the time I was out of the shower, I had decided not to worry about things. I felt pretty sure that Clint wouldn’t have given me anything, he was generally responsible, right? I mean, sure this was his mistake as much as mine but still.

By the time I finished washing and dried, Clint had pulled himself out of the bed. He was making coffee in nothing but a pair of shorts when I came out. I had all my things from the bathroom balanced on a towel.

“Coffee’s hot.”

“Thanks. Shower’s free.” I said as if it wasn’t obvious.

“Thanks, Babe.” I ignored him and shoved my few toiletries into the clear travel bag. Of course, Clint noticed and asked, “You okay?”

“Fine. Just tired. Not looking forward to the flight.” I lied.

“Yeah- I could sleep for a year.” Clint nodded only to groan and rub his head. “Here.” He handed me a cup of coffee, doctored to my liking and smiled at me with warmth in his eyes. “I’ll jump in the shower. Check out is in almost two hours.”

“Right. I’ll get packing.”

~~~~~<3

With a hangover between us, there was a blessed silence while we rode in the taxi. He listened as I talked, worked my way through idea after idea as to how I would tell my family that our fake relationship ended.

“I could just tell them that everyone put too much pressure on us.” I decided. “Too much judgment. Too many snide comments. Questions.” I decided. Sometimes simple was better and honestly, if we had a real relationship during this trip it would be a fair reason for it to end. It was hard to ignore all the wonderful things Clint had said when he defended me.

“Okay.” He said.

After a few minutes of silently chewing at my lip, I gave up. “Thank you.” I said. “For putting up with it. For all the drama, trouble. For Matt. You’re almost off the hook and I promise I won’t put you in this position again.”

“I could,” He softly spoke. “put up with it. I mean, for longer.”

“But you don’t have to.” I laughed though I wanted to cry. “Lucky you.”

“And if I wanted too?” I wasn’t sure if I heard him right. I mean, what did that even mean?

“We need to go.” I said instead when the taxi came to a stop. I could see mom getting out of the taxi a few cars in front of us. I didn’t want to talk to her. I didn’t want to see her. I didn’t want to pretend anymore. I wanted to get home and cry.

There was a crack of thunder as Clint opened the taxi door. As I put my foot on the asphalt, the sky opened up. Torrential rains fell from the sky. Yep, that was how my day was going to go.

Clint wrestled the bags out of the trunk and made quick work of checking them in at the curbside baggage drop. I hardly made it out of the cab before he was offering me his hand with a bright smile. In the distance behind him, I could see more and Kurt making their way inside the airport. They looked as tired as I felt. I didn’t think they were paying us any attention.

Still, Clint wasn’t one to take a chance. He pulled me to him and we danced, spinning in the rain. My clothes and hair were quickly soaking up the water, as was his but he didn’t seem to care.

It took a bit for me to give in. But after a few dips, twists and turns he had be smiling at him. I couldn’t help laughing as people watched him pull me into a kiss.

“Get a room.” Someone shouted and I realized it was Kurt.

I had no idea when he and Mom made their way back outside the airport but at some point they did. I rolled my eyes and stepped away from Clint. He didn’t let go of my hand though. I guess the act was back on.

“I’ll call when we get back to the city.” I promised though I knew already that I was more likely going to text them and call it good enough.

“You better.” Mom demanded.

~~~~~<3

I was beyond glad to get off the airplane. The moment we took off, I focused on trying to sleep. Clint seemed to do the same and both of us dozed most of the long flight. Now that we had our bags and my legs were moving, I felt much better. My head was clearer and my heart heavier.

“About last night.” Clint blurted out as we walked by a Starbucks in the airport. I didn’t want to talk about this. I didn’t want to acknowledge this. I didn’t want to give voice to the demon for fear I’d make it real. But he had to go and bring it up.

“It’s fine.” I said, putting on the bravest face I had. “I’m going to go grab a taxi and get home. I’ll see you Monday?”

“Wait a second?” Clint looked between the cafe and me. I smiled and shook my head. “We should talk about it- I mean we-”

“No, it’s fine. We were drunk. It’s whatever. And… I think I want to be alone for a little bit. I haven’t been since we left for the trip, you know?” I didn’t wait for him to answer. “I’ll see you Monday.” I smiled as bright as I could and walked away with a wave.

When Clint didn’t follow me, I breathed a heavy breath. It took everything I had to hold myself together. I could close my eyes and still see the weight of everything as it settled on his shoulders. He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to carry with him knowing that he got drunk and had sex with his college age employee. He deserved better than that. He was a good man and a good boss.

“Wait!” Clint’s voice had the amazing ability to carry over distances.

I hadn’t thought anything of the sound of running feet- people run in airports. His voice was what made me turn and look. He skidded to a stop in front of me, no coffee in his hands.

“What, Clint?”

“I like you.” He blurted out. “Maybe could even love you.”

“Stop.” It was hard to keep from yelling. His mouth snapped shut. “I am tired. You’re tired. We just spent a whole trip pretending to be in love. We got drunk and had sex. It’s fine. Yeah, I’m young but I’m a big girl. I can handle it. Don’t worry. Just- go home and rest before you feel pressured into making promises or say things you don’t mean.”

“What?” He looked deflated. I told myself it was just that he was tired. He was wound up, thinking he had to do something- to be something for me because the night before.

I said, “I’ll see you Monday.” and turned.

The heels of my boots echoed against the tiles. It felt like the airport was empty and that I was alone yet people moved all around us as I walked away. I didn’t dare to look back, not directly. Instead I used a window as I walked by. It was just reflective enough to see Clint standing where I left him, rooted in place and my heart broke. That was the instant I decided that I wouldn’t see him on Monday. I couldn’t do this. I thought I could but I cant.

~~~~~<3

Somehow, I managed to make it home before breaking down. Even as tears dripped from my chin, I texted mom that we made it home just fine. I told her we had a blast on the trip. She told me of how Sarah had made a scene at the wedding not long after we left. She was wine drunk and screamed at the groomsmen. Matt had to take her back to the hotel room early.

It turned out, Sarah had changed her flight and left not long after we were in the air. She was on a single ticket, leaving Matt behind on the island. What that meant for them or their future was anyone’s guess. While Mom held onto hope that they would work things out. She had hope that Sarah could still accomplish her dreams of going back to school with financial security, I had other ideas. I hoped that it meant that Sarah would file for an annulment and move far away from Matt.

I spent the weekend unpacking. The dress Clint purchased was hung with care in my closet, still needing a trip to the dry cleaners. I hardly left the apartment except for running to the corner store for more wine, more chips and most importantly- ice cream. By the time classes resumed, I planned to not even fit into the cursed dress from the wedding. It wasn’t exactly a healthy coping method but it tasted good at least.

Monday morning came with much dread. I hadn’t heard from Clint all weekend but I hadn’t expected to… But I wanted to. I wanted him to blow up my phone. I wanted him to prove to me he cared. I wanted him to show me I was wrong. I wanted my fairy tale.

But I’m not a child anymore. I don’t get fairy tales. I don’t get fairy tale endings. I get to get wine drunk before four in the afternoon. I get to ignore my phone all morning. I get to block the cafe’s number. I get to block the other supervisors.

By Wednesday morning and my third missed shift, Mr. Barton started calling. Then he texts, wanting to know if everything was alright. Did he do anything wrong? Was I sick? Did I need anything? Finally, he asked for me to just talk to him. I had to answer, somehow. I had to tell him something.

“Mr. Barton, I quit.”

I sent the text with my breath held. I watched with baited breath as the read receipt changed from ‘unread’ to ‘read’. The screen changed to reflect an incoming call from the last person I wanted to talk to. After rejecting the call, I made quick work of blocking the last connecting to Arrowhead cafe.

~~~~~<3

Somehow, I managed to survive until Saturday. I busied myself during my last free week before classes with looking for a new job. Nothing seemed right but I applied with as many positions as I could. I needed something.

Outside, rain poured down in sheets and thunder cracked. Wind whistled down the street and between the buildings. Part of me wondered if power would hold out for the rest of the night. It wouldn’t be the first time this shitty apartment lost power due to a storm and it wouldn’t be the last.

When the pounding started at my door, I almost jumped out of my skin. At first, I wasn’t going to answer. I was riding a nice buzz from the wine and had worked myself a nice sized crater into the tub of Chocolate ice cream I had been nibbling. When the pounding didn’t stop, I had no choice but to slip off the windowsill I had curled up in.

I didn’t think about it what I was wearing as I walked to the door but god, I wish I did. All I knew was the pounding wasn’t stopping and it was almost one in the morning. I didn’t want to open the door without looking through the peep hole but then the last voice I ever wanted to hear came bellowing through the door.

“Alexis!” No. No, not home. Go away. Maybe if I pretended to be asleep? “I just want to talk. To make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m fine, Mr. Barton.” I tried so hard to sound fine too.

“So I’m ‘Mr. Barton’ now?” He sounded tired and I wondered if it was my fault. Maybe he was having to work extra to pick up my slack. Maybe no one could pick up my shifts. It didn’t matter, though. “Let me in. Let’s talk.”

“Go home. There’s nothing to talk about.” I yelled through the door.

“I’ll stay out here all damn night then! Yelling. You’re neighbors are sure to notice. Maybe someone will call the cops. Want to see what happens?” Oh man, that was a low move. I scrunched my eyes closed and swallowed the urge to scream.

Instead I yanked open the door and reached out, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him inside. The door slammed shut behind him. “That’s not fucking fair.”

“Do you ever wear pants at home?” Clint asked, looking at me than running his hand through his hair and looking away. Right. Boyshorts and a large tee. Why can’t I just be allowed to die. “Doesn’t matter.” He decided as I crossed my arms over my chest.

“What do you want?” I snapped.

“To know why you just up and quit!” He snapped back. “Everything was great and then we got back and you’re just-” He flung his hands out when he couldn’t find the word he wanted.

“Fuck you.” I snarled.

“You did. Or rather. I fucked you and you just-”

“Yes. You fucked me! How could I go back to the cafe after that? Pretending like none of this happened?!”

“I asked if you were sure!” He snapped back before taking a calming breath and running his hands down his too pale face. “Look. We were drunk. I was drunk. But if you didn’t want to- you could have said ‘no’ and I would have stopped in a heartbeat. I’m not- I don’t want to be that kind of man. I never wanted to take advantage of you.”

“You didn’t. I wanted it.” I grumbled the words. This wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have but dammit I couldn’t let him think even for a moment that I hadn’t been on board with what was happening that night.

“Then what’s the problem?!” Clint’s voice was climbing again.

“I didn’t plan on you going to the wedding. I didn’t plan on spending so much time with you. I didn’t plan to fall in love with you. I didn’t plan any of this, so leave. Just go so I can get over you in peace. Alright? I don’t need-”

“Look- I know you’re pissed off at me right now. I know I showed up unannounced and made a scene. But I think you just said ‘I didn’t plan to fall in love with you’ and I really need you to rewind.”

“I… wait- what?” I didn’t say that. I couldn’t have. Did I? Fucking wine and ice cream.

“Alexis- are you in love with me?” Clint stepped closer.

“What? No. Why would I-?” I couldn’t find the words to properly dig myself out of this. “Look- I just didn’t want to make things hard for you, to put your reputation at risk or anything. It’s bad enough what you had to go through last week.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” At least he wasn’t yelling anymore.

“Because I didn’t- You don’t feel the same way, you couldn’t- I’m me and you’re you. So why get hurt?”

“I don’t feel the same way?” Clint’s face was blank and I nodded. “Jesus Christ- I told you, I tried to tell you- what do I have to do to make you see?!” He snapped. So much for the yelling being done.

“See what?!” I stomped my foot. How very adult of me.

Clint reached out and snagged a hand around my waist. There was nothing I could do to stop myself from crashing into him. A hand tangled in my hair as he pushed his lips against mine. I was tense at first, unsure of what was happening.

Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the fact that this is what I’ve been wanting from the moment I got home but I eventually relaxed. The kiss turned soft and sweet as I ran my hands along his arms, up his chest and rested a hand against the side of his neck. Stubble scratched at my face and his breath fanned over me.

“I love you too.” He whispered.

~~~~~<3

It’s been a few years now, and I still work at Arrowhead Coffee for a few hours on the weekends. The mornings where we opened the cafe together were some of my favorite times, even if he still occasionally flirted with the espresso machine. A girl can’t win every fight.

The sun wasn’t even up yet but in an hour, it would start coloring the sky a little at a time. I still wasn’t really a morning person but this- this was worth it. I was surprised to see the cafe windows still dark. Clint normally at least had some lights on by now.

As I got closer, I realized it wasn’t as dark as I thought. Inside the windows I could see little candles perched on each table. Firelight flickered and danced. Flowers were everywhere.

When I slipped inside, I called for Clint. Soft music played over the speakers. I couldn’t help but laugh when he stepped out of the back. He was far overdressed with his smart suit for working in a cafe.

“May I have this dance?” He asked as he drew closer.

I realized, as I let myself be pulled along the flower petal covered floor that he was wearing the same suit he had worn that night, so long ago. I also realized that the flower petals were getting crushed, squished into the wood floor and that it wasn’t going to be fun to clean this up. Romantic gestures tended to be messy- they don’t show you that in the Lifetime Romcoms.

The song came to an end and for a moment, Clint held me. There wasn’t anywhere else I’d rather be. I couldn’t imagine being in the arms of anyone else. This was paradise. This was heaven.

Clint stepped back and smiled, it was that soft smile that hinted at his lips but danced in his eyes- that smile he so rarely used for anyone or anything but me. I could imagine someday, Clint giving a baby that same smile as he rocked a tiny bundle in his arms.

He sank down to one knee, completely ignoring how flower petals would be worked into his slacks. Reaching into his blazer pocket, he pulled out a box. It wasn’t black but it was velvet- a deep royal purple that matched the colors of the cafe. My breath stuck in my throat as I covered my mouth with my hand. It was a gesture I had made fun of countless times in movies and yet here I was, standing in the candle light doing that exact thing.

“Alexis.” His voice was thick and heavy. It reminded me of how he sounded when he woke in the morning. “I can’t begin to say how much you mean to me. I thought it fitting, since everything started here that this should hopefully start here too. I first saw you here and I was captivated by your smile. This is where our fake relationship started. This is where I fell in love with you- far before you knew it. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. I could only nod, before he even got the box open. I was nodding so much that I probably looked like a bobble head. It didn’t matter because I launched myself in his arms, knocking us both to the ground and the box sliding along the floor.

I didn’t care about rings. He could marry me with a string. “Yes.” I finally choked out, “I’ll marry you.”


End file.
